These Ties that Bind
by Inks Inc
Summary: Family. A never ending navigation of often uncharted waters. Some good, some bad and some downright ugly. Be the waters rough or smooth, there's always a need for a steering hand. And that's what he is. For them all. Warning: Spanking.
1. The Walls have Ears

Rolling his eyes for the fifth time of the day at Tony's juvenile immaturity, Tim ground his teeth in irritation. He'd spent the entire day so far fending off third grader practical jokes and teasing remarks from the apparently "senior" field agent, and his patience was wearing thin.

Very thin.

It didn't help that he was _already_ in foul humour, the fact of which was only fodder for Tony's non-stop onslaught of irritation.

When the teasing about his new haircut eventually died down, and silence mercifully resumed around the squad room, Tim took another scathing glance at the offending text message that now seemed to be burned into both his cell's and his own memory.

He only had himself to blame, he thought bitterly.

If he had kept his distance, as he _knew_ he should have, it never would have happened.

But oh no, he had to allow himself to be pushed into a decision he wasn't sure he wanted to make, like he always was.

No-one could just respect his wishes.

Scratch that, no-one just respect _him._

He tore his eyes from the cell, snapping it shut with a snarl, and looked up and around the bull pen.

As his eyes rested on Tony, he felt ire build up inside him once more.

He was so sick and _tired_ of being the butt of his jokes.

Shooting a glance over at Ziva, he was slightly mollified.

She had yelled at Tony to leave him alone, and didn't laugh at the other man's stupid jokes or comments.

At least _she_ was decent to him.

At least _she_ didn't think he was there simply to be a source of amusement.

Scowling, he once again dropped his head down to glare at the text message that had started his day off so woefully. He was so engrossed in it and the feelings that stemmed from it, that he didn't notice Gibbs stride into the bull pen after a long day in MTAC.

He was so engrossed in it, that he didn't hear or feel the elder man come up behind him to check in on the progress of his work.

He only became aware of his boss' presence when the familiar sting suddenly lit across the back of his head.

Yelping in surprise, and rubbing his scalp furiously, he turned around in surprise.

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded, completely uncaring as to the insolent tone of his voice.

Across the bull pen, Tony raised an eyebrow so high it was in danger of disappearing completely into his hairline forever. Across from him, Ziva gaped slightly.

Tony might get lippy at times…hell, so did she sometimes.

But… _Tim?_

He was always the pinnacle of respectful behaviour.

Gibbs too, arched an eyebrow in surprise at his junior agent's attitude.

"That, McGee" he growled, "was for getting about one hours work done in _four_ hours. Keep up that attitude, and I'll _give_ you something to have an attitude about. Got it?"

Paling slightly and checking himself, Tim nodded.

"Sorry boss" he murmured quietly, annoyed at himself for letting his emotions get the better of him.

Feeling DiNozzo's and Ziva's stares on him, the elder agent directed a fresh glare at the two of them.

"Do you two want the same, or do you want to get on with _your_ work?"

A sandy brown head and a dark brown head instantly dropped down into their files in response.

Crouching down beside his junior agent on the pretext of checking another portion of his work, Gibbs studied the kid for a minute.

"You ok Tim?" he asked gently, the beginnings of a gut feeling that something was wrong with the boy playing around his stomach.

Looking up tentatively, the younger man nodded.

"Yes boss, just a bit distracted. I'll get it together, promise."

Sighing at the obvious misdirect, Gibbs pondered for a moment.

He knew enough of Tim to know that he could be outrageously stubborn when the mood took him, and pressing him to talk when he clearly wasn't ready wasn't going to get him any answers.

Quickly squeezing the young agent's arm, he nodded.

"Alright then McGee, but you know my doors open if you need anything? I mean, it's literally open."

Tim smiled his first genuine smile of the day at the long standing joke of the team's boss never locking his door, and nodded his understanding.

"I know boss" he said softly.

With another quick squeeze of the young man's arm, Gibbs set off towards Tony's desk to check on his progress.

With that, the day began to pass in a substantially calmer fashion as Gibbs' presence made any further teasing on Tony's part an impossibility, much to the junior agent's relief.

As he engrossed himself in what felt like the fiftieth file of the day, Tim vaguely heard their boss ordering Tony to accompany him to the conference room to interview a witness.

Being silently grateful that he didn't have to go and feign concern he could not feel in his current state, Tim continued to work diligently as the team leader and senior filed agent strode from the squad room.

He was grateful that Ziva seemed to correctly gauge his mood, and made no attempts to force him into to inane small chat in the absence of their team members.

About half an hour elapsed before Tim realised he needed Gibbs' signature on a file. He sighed in frustration as he logically deduced that he could do no more work until the file he was working on was officially closed.

Damn protocols.

Heaving himself out of his chair with a weary sigh, he began to make his way towards the conference room, fighting the urge to sneak another look at the text that he already had memorised every vowel of.

Approaching the door, and glancing in the side glass panelled window, he saw that the witness had clearly just left, and that Tony and Gibbs were chatting amongst themselves. Tony appeared to be telling a wildly funny joke, and Tim was surprised to see that the team leader was laughing freely in response.

About to knock on the door, he cursed as he clumsily tripped over his own feet, accidentally hitting the wall mounted switch that allowed whatever acoustics were being played in the otherwise sound proofed conference room, to be heard in the secure clearance hall that lay outwards of it.

A creation born out of Vance's insistences, on the basis that it allowed a witness to be observed as though in interrogation, without _feeling_ like they were in interrogation.

About to flick off the switch, and enter the room itself, he froze when he heard a name he recognised.

 _His_ name.

Tony's voice, full of laughter, was in full regale mode.

"He's still such a loser boss, honestly. Still the same snivelling mamma's boy. Did you _see_ what he was wearing? I mean _come on._ It's like he's just asking for it. He still has to be the smartest person in the room, no matter what. I don't know how we put up with him for so long, we deserve a medal. The " _survivor of Tim_ " medal."

At this, Gibbs let out an unmistakeable snort of laughter and nodded his head in agreement with the younger man's speech.

"I should get one of those sewn onto my old core hoodies" he laughed, leaning back in his chair, amusement evident on every line of his face.

Outside in the hall, the air seemed to suddenly be in scarce supply.

Tim paled a deathly pale, and the file in his hand shook under his now clammy grasp.

He couldn't believe what he had just heard.

With a limp hand, he quietly reached up and killed the voice relay switch.

Leaning against the wall, he tried valiantly to compose himself.

He readily conceded that he had never felt more betrayed than he felt in the current moment.

Tony's teasing, had always been just that, teasing.

The voice that had spoken the words that pierced his mind, was not a teasing voice.

It was a voice full of dislike, scathing and resentment.

Tony _hated_ him.

Before he could even get his mind round this fact, the amused face of his boss flashed before his eyes and he bit his lip to try and stem the tidal flow of emotions that surged through him in response.

His boss had _agreed._

The man he thought of as a father had _laughed._

Gulping, Tim shook his head in misery and clamped a hand to his stomach in a futile attempt to try and stem the nausea that was beginning to ebb and flow there.

Gibbs thought he was a pain, that he was a know it all, that he deserved a medal for putting up with him.

That he was a _mamma's_ boy.

With these thoughts ripping right through him, Tim jarred himself into action.

He couldn't be in the hall when his two tormentors exited it.

In fact, he couldn't be in the building.

Throwing the file he was carrying down on the floor, the junior agent stormed from the conference room corridor and headed directly towards the lift in a fit of sudden rage.

He was done with these people.

He was done with this stupid job.

He was just… _done._

When the elevator doors pinged, he rummaged inside his pocket and whipped out his cell.

Glancing down at it, he resisted the urge to smash it into a thousand pieces.

Satisfying himself with violently turning it off, and breaking the "never be unreachable" rule with an almost savage feeling of angry glee.

It was only when the small confines of the silent and empty elevator enveloped him, that he allowed himself to fully feel the full force of his misery.

As hot, but unshed tears sprang up in his eyes, he leaned his head back against the cool metal in misery.

First his… _father_ , and now _this_.

About thirty minutes later, and being completely unaware of the havoc that they had wreaked, Tony and Gibbs began to make their way out of the conference room and back to the bull pen.

"What was that assholes surname again DiNozzo?"

"Connery" Tony replied with a pout, "how does a deadbeat like that get to have _Connery_ as a surname. Life really isn't fair."

Cross town, and with anger in his heart, McGee stormed into what would be the first of many bar's, and ordered the most potent sounding drink on the menu and sat alone in stony silence.

Placing the requested drink in front of the angry looking young man, the experienced bar tender looked at him in sympathy.

He knew a man in pain when he saw one. And a man ordering a drink like that, at three in the afternoon, was a man in pain.

"Life really isn't fair pal, is it?"

…

TBC

….


	2. Miscommunication Meltdown

Tim stared into the last remaining dregs of his fifth drink, in his second bar, and sighed. He couldn't understand why what had happened bothered him so much. He was more than used to people thinking he was weird, a nerd, a know it all. It had never bothered him like this in the past.

Knocking back the last of his whiskey, he realised with a stab that it was because the people from his past never _pretended_ to like him. They never pretended to care about him. Never pretended to include him in their little cliques.

Ordering his sixth drink, and ignoring the searching look of the barmaid, he continued to stew.

He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as to think people like Gibbs or Tony could ever have given a damn about him. They were the grown up versions of the star quarterback, and no matter what, Tim would always be the vice captain of the chess team.

Gripping the now delivered drink tightly, he felt the hurt transition into anger, as it had done intermittently for the last two or three hours.

He didn't need these people. He was a top MIT graduate for crying out loud, he didn't need them. He definitely didn't need his poorly paying public service job. It wasn't just Abby who fended off corporate sector offers every year, he had his fair share.

He grimaced as he realised he had turned down those positions, not because he wouldn't have found them fulfilling, but because he couldn't comprehend the idea of leaving his so called family for them. Taking a large gulp of liquor, he was pleased when he began to feel the edges of his mind blur, and the warmth of alcohol induced indifference begin to waft over him.

Tony who? Gibbs who?

Tim smirked as he drained the last drops and ordered his seventh drink.

Back at the office however, no one was smirking.

Gibbs and Tony had returned to the squad room to find Tim missing. Requiring his input, Gibbs had rounded on a nonplussed Ziva for his whereabouts. The explanation that he had left for the conference room some time ago merely added to the confusion.

When it became clear after the eleventh time to contact the junior agent, that his phone was resolutely shut off, Gibbs began to feel slightly nauseous.

This was so out of character for the young agent that he instinctively knew it could only mean the kid was in some kind of trouble.

Abby's digging had deduced that the cell had been shut off in NCIS headquarters, so there was no clue as to where Tim was now.

Eventually Abby had the idea of looking through the security footage to see if Tim actually did go to the conference room, or if he had…fallen, tripped, been attacked somehow along the way.

Stomach churning, Gibbs waited as patiently as possible for Abby to dig through the firewalls that were required to bring up internal footage without the directors prior approval, seeing as Gibbs was in no mood to deal with Vance's interrogations had he asked.

Eventually, the grainy figure of McGee leaving the squad room materialised on the bull pen plasma, and Ziva, Tony, Gibbs and Abby watched intently.

They followed the footage as Tim made his way to the conference room, just like Ziva said.

All appeared normal, until the younger man stumbled somehow, and knocked into the wall.

Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he quickly racked his gaze over the footage to see did this stumble result in some kind of injury. Finding none, he watched on in confusion as Tim merely stood outside the room that had housed both himself and his senior field agent.

Four sets of eyes watched as the pallor of their colleague's friend suddenly dropped with a dramatic haste, and his hands visibly began to shake. They continued to watch silently as Tim brought a clearly weak hand up to flick at some switch on the wall that wasn't immediately obvious on their first viewings, but which they then recognised as the voice relay switch.

Seconds later, Tim suddenly threw the file he was carrying down on the ground and stormed, with obvious rage, out of the range of footage.

Ziva and Abby gaped at each other in obvious perplexity, completely nonplussed as to what could have caused Tim so much angst.

Tony and Gibbs however, looked at each other with different expressions.

A healthy dose of understanding, interchanged with an appreciable dash of guilt.

They had done this.

Tim had inadvertently stumbled upon their conversation, and had assumed the worst.

Tony let out an audible groan, as Gibbs immediately strode to his desk and rooted for his car keys.

Abby and Ziva exchanged another look.

"What's going on, what do you two know?" the lab rat demanded angrily, her strong feelings for Tim at that moment completely depriving her of her usual charm.

"DiNozzo, say words" Gibbs instructed, as he continued to search for his damn keys.

Groaning slightly as he took in the dangerous expression on Abby's face, Tony opened his mouth hesitantly.

"Uhh…well, we think…we think that McGee accidentally overheard a conversation we were having and uhh…took it up the wrong way."

Ziva's eyes narrowed dangerously at this, having been irritated by Tony's teasing of McGee already that day.

"What does that mean?" she asked, with a definite edge in her voice.

Grimacing, Tony looked at Gibbs for help, his own feeling of guilt lapping up around him.

The elder of the team rubbed his face tiredly as he fished his keys out of his drawer.

"It means that Tony and I were talking about a _different_ Tim, and _our_ Tim doesn't realise that."

Realisation dawned on the two girls, as they shot the two men accusing looks.

"So you two did this to Tim?" Abby stated, more than asked.

"It was a misunderstanding Abb's" Gibbs answered wearily, not wanting to deal with his own feelings of guilt in the middle of the squad room.

"And you'll fix it?"

Dropping a quick kiss on her forehead, the elder agent nodded.

"We'll fix it" he assured her.

Slipping back into practical mode, he thought rapidly.

"Ok, DiNozzo, you're with me. We'll go and find McGee. Abby, Ziva, you two are to _stay here_ and continue working the case. We can't have the whole team off track, clear?"

The glowering glances he received were not unexpected, but he didn't have the time to coddle them.

"I said is that _clear?"_

Recognising the warning tone in their boss' voice, the two girls nodded slowly.

"Good."

Sweeping from the bull pen, making it clear Tony was to follow, Gibbs softened somewhat.

Looking back over his shoulder at Abby and Ziva as he waited for the elevator, he shot them his sincerest of sincere looks.

"We'll fix it" he promised softly, and was relieved when the two smiled their understanding back at him.

When the doors pinged shut however, he was less relieved.

He knew that his team thought he could fix just about anything, but he himself, wasn't so sure.

There had already been something wrong with McGee before the whole conference room fiasco, and the elder man knew enough of the younger one to know, that he was probably spiralling out of control somewhere.

For all his talents, for all his intelligence and despite the fact that he was a fine young man, Gibbs knew McGee was plagued by insecurities. Insecurities that he and Tony had inadvertently brought crashing to the fore. Glancing to his right, he saw the unusually silent DiNozzo was also lost to his own thoughts. If he was a betting man, he would have wagered they bore a startling similarity to his own.

Walking briskly to Gibbs' car, Tony turned a pained face to the elder man.

"How are we going to find him boss?"

Slipping into the driver's seat, the team leader sighed.

"He's in a bar somewhere Tony, just got to try them all."

"All the bars in central DC boss?"

Shrugging his shoulders as he reversed the car out of his space, Gibbs pondered.

"We'll try cross town first. I know there's a few places there he goes when he's…confused."

Tony looked at his boss in bewilderment for a moment.

"How do you know that?"

Gibbs smiled slightly, despite the current situation.

"It's my job to know that, Tony. You think I don't know that you suddenly turn into Michael Tyson when _you're_ upset?"

Tony's jaw dropped slightly as he registered this.

"You know I box?"

Swinging into the lane with the least traffic, Gibbs nodded.

"I know you're pretty good at it too."

The usual smile that would have shone through at a compliment from his boss was lost in translation as Tony considered the different way's he and McGee reacted to being stressed out. This led him to a consideration of his _own_ actions that day. The guilt he already felt intensified, and he began to squirm in his seat.

Seeing this, Gibbs raised a questioning eyebrow at the younger man.

Not even bothering to come up with a mitigating defence, that would present his actions in a better light, Tony obediently opened his mouth.

"I was horrible to Tim today boss" he muttered quietly.

A brief silence ensued as Gibbs didn't answer, knowing the younger man wasn't finished.

"When you were in MTAC, I… gave him a hard time. I was…bored. He was trying to work, and I kept ragging on him. I could see he was getting annoyed, but I didn't stop. Ziva told me to stop, and still, I kept going. If I hadn't been such a jerk…maybe he wouldn't have assumed the worst when he heard us talking. This is…all my fault."

With that, Tony let his gaze drop to the car's floor and grimaced as the gently burning guilt he had felt, suddenly roared into a raging guilt. Why did he always have to torment Tim. Why couldn't he just leave the kid alone? Why did he have to be such an asshole?

Grateful for the red light he just yielded to; Gibbs reached out and rapped Tony hard, upside the head.

Tony yelped, but didn't protest, and waited for the lecture he assumed was coming.

When the elder of the two remained silent, and his hands remained on the wheel, the senior field agent felt the pulls of confusion.

"What, that's it?"

Sighing slightly, Gibbs pondered for a moment.

"Tony, this isn't your fault. There's more to this than we know, and _I_ will deal with it when we find Tim. That being said, I don't know how many times I have told you to stop teasing him when it's clear he's getting upset. Tim isn't as confident as you are, and what may seem funny to you, definitely mightn't be funny to him. We'll have a chat about your behaviour later, but right now, my main concern is finding him. Ok?"

"Yes boss" Tony murmured quietly.

Silence ensued again as the car trundled on; they were getting close to whatever haunts Gibbs knew Tim to frequent. A sudden thought struck Tony as they began to pass vibrant looking bars. A thought that caused him great concern.

"Boss?" he began tentatively, not knowing how well, or badly, his concerns would be received.

"Yeah Tony?" Gibbs answered distractedly, trying to remember if it was the right or left turn he was supposed to take next.

"Tim…he's not…I mean you're not…uhm..."

"Spit it out DiNozzo."

Nodding and collecting his thoughts, Tony tried again.

"Tim's not in…trouble, is he? I mean…you're not going to uhm…"

Having a feeling as to where this was going, and feeling a twinge of pride for Tony's looking out for the kid, Gibbs sighed slightly.

"Punish him?" he supplied knowingly.

"Yeah" Tony replied, an anxious note now clearly evident in his voice. "He's just a kid boss, he's upset…he didn't mean to break the rules, and it was my fault as well even though you think it's not. Can't you just let this one go?"

Shaking his head, whilst wishing with all his might he could nod instead, Gibbs knew the answer instinctively before he even had time to formulate it.

"Like I said Tony, my main concern right now is _finding_ him. That being said, nothing gives him the right to run off like this, and yeah, you can bet your ass he's in serious trouble, but, I don't want to hear another word about it right now, ok? We just need to make sure he's ok and safe."

Sighing in reluctance, the younger man nodded, knowing no other response was acceptable.

The car came to a stop, and Gibbs was relieved to vaguely remember the bar he parked outside.

"Ok, let's get started."

With that, the two men exited the car and entered the first of what would be many bars in search for their wayward team member.

Several blocks away, in _his_ fifth bar of the still young day, Tim clutched his ninth drink and snorted in laughter as he chatted happily to his newly acquired friends.

They weren't his usual type of friends, in fact, they were the type of people he'd never spoken to before in his life.

That was part, he deduced in his drunken state, of their charm.

They were out and out hippies, having blown into to town on a eccentric mix of motorcycle, motor home and even the odd horse.

An hour or so passed in a comfortable drunken stupor, and suddenly the eclectic bunch seemed like friends he'd known his entire life.

As another round of drinks landed on their table, Tim's eyes grew slightly wider at the package one of them, he vaguely remembered as calling himself Ashton, pulled out of his pocket. The others grouped around the table, hooted loudly at its appearance and held their hands out eagerly.

The inner, and sober, federal agent inside Tim instantly went into battle with the outer, and very drunk, Tim.

He definitely shouldn't be around such flagrant breaches of the law, and he definitely shouldn't be _drunk_ around such fragrant breaches of the law. As he contemplated his options through a haze of drunken thoughts, the package was suddenly brandished in his face. Glancing around the bar, he was fervently glad it was completely empty save for them, and the bartender. These people weren't exactly _discreet._

"Come on Timmy, this will loosen you up" the pretty girl across the table urged. He remembered she'd called herself Freya… or something like that.

Holding up his hands drunkenly, he shook his head, but quickly stopped when the movement made him feel sick. How much had he had to drink?

"Come on man, live a little" the handsome one beside Freya grinned. He thought that one had called himself Dave.

About to open his mouth to protest, a sudden image of the laughing Tony and Gibbs popped up in the young man's mind.

Momma's boy? He'd show them a _momma's boy._

Holding out his hand, he grinned when the hooting increased as a tablet was dropped into it.

Viciously thinking about the image of his laughing _teammates,_ he raised his hand to his mouth to insert the tablet.

Then all of a sudden, the image of the two men who had caused him such turmoil, was swept from his mind.

It was swept from his mind by a sudden, and ferocious, grip on the scruff of his neck.

Looking up in surprise, he felt his jaw drop.

The reason the image of Tony and Gibbs had been swept from his mind, became horrifically clear.

It was because the _real_ Tony and Gibbs were standing in front of him, each wearing a look of shock that closely mirrored his own.

Gibbs recovered first.

Using the hand that didn't have McGee's scruff in a stranglehold, he smartly knocked the tablet out of the young man's hand and heaved him none too gently, to his feet.

Glaring around the table of stunned blow ins, he fished around his pocket. Yanking his credentials out, he flashed them angrily at the odd gathering and fought the urge to smash the one holding the bag of tablets in the face.

"NCIS. You have two minutes to get the hell out of this bar, before I arrest each and every single one of you."

A stunned silence ensued, before chairs scraped loudly and the large group fled from the bar.

They didn't know who that guy was, but one look at the anger that had burned in his eyes had left them in no doubt that he wasn't a man to be messed with.

Tumbling out of the bar, they all spared a thought for their new friend Tim, but…rather him than them.

In the bar, Tim was suddenly feeling very sober. The merriness of alcohol that blanketed him, was quickly wasting away. Taking in the look of shock on Tony's face, he felt his stomach plummet.

He was so dead.

Squirming under the intense grip Gibbs still had on him, he turned to face the man.

"Boss…I-"

Giving the younger man a firm shake, Gibbs silenced him.

"Did you take _anything_ other than drink, McGee? Tell me the truth, right now" he demanded, feeling sick to his own stomach.

Shaking his head immediately and truthfully, Tim silently pleaded with the elder man to believe him.

Which he did.

Transferring the kid into Tony's grasp, Gibbs ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Put him in the car DiNozzo, and don't let him out of your sight. I need to talk to the bartender."

Nodding silently, Tony exerted pressure on the horrified looking McGee's shoulders, in an attempt to make him move.

Tim, for his part, wisely obeyed and forced his legs to move in the direction Tony was guiding him.

Wrenching open the back door of Gibbs' car, Tony gently placed McGee in the seat, and reached around the still drunken man and fastened his seat belt, before slipping into the front seat and locking the car doors.

"You've really done it this time probie, damn it to hell, you've really done it this time…"

Feeling the sting of Tony's words, Tim suddenly went on the defensive.

"Don't pretend you care DiNozzo" he spat, "I _heard_ you _and_ the almighty Gibbs. I know what you two think, and don't worry, I won't be around to bother you much longer. I'm handing in my resignation to the Director tomorrow."

Swivelling around in his chair to face the younger man, Tony shook his head angrily.

"The hell you are probie. What you heard from the conference room, wasn't about _you."_

Tim merely stared at him in confusion for a moment, before erupting again.

"Don't lie" he snarled, "I heard you say my name."

Growling himself, Tony tried to remain calm.

"We were talking about Tim _Connery_ , McGenius. The witness we were interviewing today, she's his sister. She had video footage of him that was relevant to the case, that's how he came up."

In the back seat, McGee's heart sank so fast and hard that he struggled to breathe, and he wondered briefly if he had somewhere along the line of his active field duty, suffered a brain injury he was unaware of.

He _knew_ who Tim Connery was. He was a former NCIS now turned FBI agent, that Tony and Gibbs despised because he had tried to have Tony fired from NCIS many moons ago, in an insane attempt to take his place on Gibbs' MCRT team.

"Oh my god…" he whispered, to himself more than anything.

Seeing Gibbs storm from the bar, Tony winced in sympathy, despite his anger with the younger man.

"You might want to start _praying_ to that god of yours McGee."

…..

TBC

….

A/N: I have no idea where this is going, just making it up as I go along, so if you've anything you particularly want to see, let me know!

Thanks for reading!


	3. Oldest First

The silence in the car was stony, interrupted only by the random and uncontrollable drunken belching from Tim, which he tried valiantly to suppress.

Tony's eyes flickered nervously between his silent boss and his green tinged probie, wondering all the while how one seemingly normal day could wind up in such a mess. Sighing to himself, he ran through various arguments that could mitigate Tim's situation.

He was coming up blank.

He was coming up totally and mockingly, blank.

The running out of the office, without telling anyone, was bad.

The purposeful breaking of the "never be out of reach" rule, was even worse.

The drinking on the job, was off the charts worse.

However, all of these Tony knew that Gibbs could eventually overlook. He knew from _experience_ that drinking on the job would drive the elder of the three men crazy, but that he would forgive and forget readily.

Their boss could get over all these things…but _drugs?_ Freaking hippie offered _drugs?_

Tim was dead. There was just no other way to put it, he was dead. Ducky would surely be talking to him in crooning tones as he lay on one of his tables before tomorrow's sun rose. Peeking another look in the rear view mirror, the senior field agent sighed when he saw that the junior agent had fallen fast asleep.

How the kid could sleep through his last moments on earth, he didn't know.

The car trundled on, and Tony was completely unsurprised to see Gibbs' ignore the turn off that led to the Navy yard, and instead take the turn off that lead to his own home.

He debated whether or not to plead the probie's case, but the tightly clenched jaw of the older man as well as his intense grip on the steering will, convinced him to keep his mouth shut.

Minutes later, and the familiar view of Gibbs' house came into range. The two field agents, as well as the two girls, spent a considerable amount of their time there. It was basically their second homes, and their boss had gone to substantial lengths to make them feel welcome.

Tim and Tony had their own room to crash in, as did Ziva and Abby. Both were converted guest rooms, which were now no longer used by anyone other than each of the four.

When the car came to a stop, Tony looked back and opened his mouth to rise a contentedly snoozing McGee.

He was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.

Handing Tony the keys of the house, Gibbs unbuckled his belt.

"Go and open the door, and get his bed ready Tony" he instructed quietly.

Tony nodded instantly, and hopped out in obedience, leaving Gibbs to survey the sleeping Tim with an odd expression on his face.

With a sigh, the team leader quietly exited the car and gently opened the back passenger door. Reaching softly around the younger man, he unbuckled his belt. Silently thanking god for his military training, he stealthily lifted McGee bodily from the car and draped him over his shoulder.

The kid never stirred.

Gibbs' neighbours were now well and truly used to the man's odd comings and goings that were associated with his job, but even the placid Mrs Davidson stared as he walked into his house, with a clearly drunken young man over his shoulder.

Leaning over the fence to her neighbour, Mrs Phelps, she raised an eyebrow.

"The things that Jethro does for troubled young men" she said fondly.

Nodding her complete agreement, Mrs Phelps watched as Gibbs gently manoeuvred himself through his front door, and shut it quietly behind him.

"So true Amy" she replied, "that young fellow looks completely out of it."

"He does" Mrs Davidson agreed, "but…even so, _I_ sure wouldn't mind being the one over _his_ shoulder."

Squealing with laugher, Mrs Phelps once again nodded her agreement, and the two went back to their afternoon gardening.

Inside the house however, no one was laughing.

Gibbs had made it up the stairs with a still sleeping Tim, and gently laid him into the bed that Tony had readied. He left Tony gently taking the kids shoes and jacket off, as he went in search of water and the painkillers he knew the boy would need when he woke up.

Returning a few moments later, he was relieved beyond measure to see McGee lying peacefully on his side, in a clearly very deep sleep.

Placing the water and tablets on his bedside table, he quickly reached over and drew the blinds, plunging the room into a sleep aiding darkness.

"Come on Tony" he instructed quietly, "let him sleep."

Leaving the end of the probie's bed, Tony allowed himself to be quickly steered from the bedroom.

Moments later, and both men threw themselves wearily into facing armchairs in the living room.

It was only as his cell binged, that Tony remembered they had a case.

Fishing it out of his pocket, he was relieved to see that the girls had made progress, and would update them in the morning. He was unsurprised when his text read that Gibbs had already updated them on the fact they'd found Tim, and was completely unsurprised when Abby had included dire warnings that he better be nice to him.

"You ok, boss?" he asked tentatively, seeing the stony look return to the team leader's face.

A slight nod was offered in response, as Gibbs leaned back in his chair and rubbed a tired hand across his face.

"Yeah Tony, I'm fine. Just relieved he's ok and…that we got there in time."

Knowing what that reference alluded to, the younger man grimaced.

He still couldn't believe it, and bar he had seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it.

Figuring now was as good as time as any, he took a deep breath.

"Look, boss, I know Tim screwed up…but you know what he's like, he's…delicate. He was really upset at the time, rightly or wrongly, and he obviously wasn't thinking straight…do you think you could…uhm…cut him some slack?"

Knowing this was coming, Gibbs smiled slightly to himself, despite the situation.

Tease and pester him thought he might, he knew Tony loved Tim in his own way, and had a fiercely protective streak in him when it came to the younger man.

"I wish I could Tony…but no, I can't. I'll talk to him when I'm calm and when I can be fair, and I promise I _will_ be fair. How's that?"

Nodding slowly, Tony realised that this was as good an outcome he could hope for.

"Ok boss" he replied softly.

"Good" Gibbs answered, feeling his heart sink as he realised he still had to deal with Tony, before he could even think about dealing with Tim.

"Now, we need to have a little talk about _your_ behaviour today DiNozzo, correct?"

A slight silence descended as Tony digested this.

In the midst of all the chaos and rapidly changing emotions, he'd forgotten that Tim wasn't the only one in trouble.

"Yes boss" he murmured, beginning to fidget with a cushion to his right.

Sighing, Gibbs tried to shake the wearisome feeling from his bones and find the energy to deal with his senior field agent.

"Want to tell me what you think gives you the right to tease and torment Tim the minute my back is turned, after I specifically _told_ you to knock it off?"

Tony grimaced slightly at the factual summation of his behaviour, and cursed his stupidity.

"Nothing gives me the right…" he answered quietly.

Nodding, and levelling the younger man with a glare, Gibbs pushed on.

"You're right. Nothing does. I need to know that you three can work without my standing over you. You're supposed to by my second in command Tony, that means when I'm not there, _you're_ supposed to be _me._ You're not supposed to be some juvenile kid with nothing better to do than mess with the people around him, is that clear?"

Wincing, Tony nodded and again lamented his poor judgement, feeling intense guilt build up inside him when he considered his partial responsibility for the mess Tim now found himself in.

"Good" Gibbs replied sternly, "you're to apologise to Tim when you see him next, understand"?

The "yes boss" was instantaneous and sincere and the elder man softened somewhat in response.

"Ok Tony, you're taking over any "probie" jobs from Tim for the next two weeks, and I don't want any whining about it, you understand? Maybe you need a reminder how hard it can be the junior member on the team."

Tony nodded miserably.

Gibbs had dished out the "probie" punishment once or twice before, and he hated it with a passion. Being the senior field agent was something he was passionately proud about, and any infringement on it just flat out sucked. This time however he didn't feel the urge to whine, he knew he'd been an absolute ass.

"Ok then, discussion over" Gibbs answered in a much lighter tone, "you want to stay for dinner?"

Tony looked up in surprise.

He had been waiting for the other foot to drop.

"Wait…that's it?" he spluttered in confusion, looking at Gibbs searchingly.

The confused look he was wearing, was mirrored right back to him.

"Well…yeah, DiNozzo, that's it."

The bewildered feelings in the senior field agent intensified.

"You…you're not uhh…I mean, well what I mean is…"

"Spit it out Tony" Gibbs instructed, looking at the younger man intently.

Nodding and flushing somewhat, the young agent's fidgeting increased.

"You're not going to…you know, punish me?"

A brief silence ensued.

"I just did Tony?" Gibbs eventually answered, in evident confusion.

Shaking his head in frustration, the senior field agent sighed.

"No…I mean aren't you going to you know…" he let out another frustrated breath, "aren't you going to tan my ass?"

Realisation dawned on the other man and he felt himself gape slightly.

Tony, _his_ Tony, the very same Tony who wheedled, protested, whined, sulked, and bargained every single time he was about to feel the sting of his belt, was actually _asking_ for him to wear him out.

Quickly getting over the shock, he instinctively made to shake his head in the negative and assure the younger man that no, he'd been punished enough, when something in his eyes made him stop.

Guilt.

The kid still felt guilty. Gibbs knew Tony well enough to know that guilt was _not_ something he dealt all that well with, and leaving him feeling like he hadn't atoned for his behaviour, wouldn't be a good idea.

Gibbs battled with himself, he had never been in this situation before.

To his mind, boys will be boys, and whilst Tony's behaviour had annoyed him, he felt relegation to probie status for two weeks was a sufficient punishment.

One further glance at the kid let him know without doubt however, that Tony didn't feel the same way.

"Do you think you need to be?" he eventually asked, striving hard to keep his voice neutral.

The seemingly simple question, left it's recipient gaping.

"What? What do you mean do I think I need to be?" Tony spluttered, "since when do you _ask_ what I think about it?"

Sighing, Gibbs suddenly felt every single one of his years on the plant.

"Simple question Tony, yes or no answer will do."

Growling slightly under his breath, the younger man fell silent for a moment, but only a moment.

The image of Tim's increasingly morose face as he had taunted him relentlessly flashed in front of him, and he squared his shoulders.

"Yes boss…I was a jerk" he stated, matter of factly.

Feeling a swelling of pride for his young agent, Gibbs nodded thoughtfully.

"Ok then, stand up" he instructed firmly, as he himself, stood.

Striving to keep his resolve, Tony did as he was told, but didn't need to be told to stride over to the arm rest of the sofa that had born his weight many times as he was draped over it, on the receiving end of his boss'…unique method of correction.

Watching silently as his senior field agent bent himself over the arm rest, Gibbs bit back a proud smile.

Kid had come a long way.

Reaching up, he quickly unbuckled his belt, and pulled it through his pant's loops. Deftly folding it two, he firmly secured the metal buckle in his hand. There was no way he would ever risk that part striking either of his two boys.

Sighing in reluctance, but knowing Tony needed it, he moved into the familiar position behind the kid, and placed a warm hand on his back.

"You sure, Tony?" he asked softly.

The muffled "I'm sure boss" was certain and unwavering, and Gibbs felt another surge of pride.

The first lick of the belt fell without further adieu, and Tony gasped instinctively.

Gibbs for his part, didn't waste time in bringing the heavy leather down again, and kept a firm hold on Tony's back in the process.

He continued to rain down searing swat after searing swat on the jeans clad backside in front of him, allowing the optimum time between licks for the pain to reach its highest point, but not to subside any before the next one fell.

Gritting his teeth in distaste for what he was doing, he dropped the belt down to the sensitive sit spots, where Tony's thighs and backside met.

It was then that he felt the kid begin to go limp.

Dishing out two more quick swats, and hearing the answering yelps, he threw the belt out of his hand.

The punishment itself had lasted for just under a minute, and it was certainly nothing compared to some of the thrashings he'd dished out to his senior field agent, but he knew that Tony didn't need any more to let go of his guilt.

He laid a gentle hand on the kids shoulder, and carefully pulled him up from the sofa.

"Come on Tony, up you get son, up you get now" he murmured quietly, as he guided the younger man back to his feet.

As he looked at the flushed face of his senior agent, he saw his eyes were dry as was not usually the case after a taste of his belt, but they were free from guilt, which was the elder mans intention.

"I'm sorry boss" Tony squeaked, his voice hitched as his backside was on fire despite the brevity of his punishment.

Gibbs merely opened his arms wide in response, and arched an eyebrow in the boy's direction.

He left out a soft chuckle when Tony shot into them, and rested his head on his shoulder.

Wrapping his arms around his protectively, he pulled him tightly to him.

"It's ok Tony, it's ok…it's all forgotten about now, you hear?"

The nodding of the tousled head assured him that the younger agent got the message.

Letting him go, he looked at him fondly as he instinctively reached back and rubbed some of the sting out of his backside.

"Since when do you go so easy on me boss?" he asked, a faint hallmark DiNozzo grin beginning to play around his lips.

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs shot him a feigned glare.

"Since never, this was a one-time thing…so don't you go getting any ideas."

Widening his eyes in wounded innocence, Tony tilted his head at his boss.

"Ideas? Me? You have me confused for someone else I think."

Shaking his head at the incorrigible nature of his second in command, Gibbs looped his belt back through his jeans and set off towards the kitchen, with a gesture to Tony to follow.

"What do you want for dinner?" he asked, as he rummaged through his refrigerator.

Peeking round the door at limited choices the fridge had to offer, Tony balked.

"Pizza?" he wheedled, putting his deep brown eyes to good use.

Sighing in defeat, Gibbs nodded.

"How you survive on the junk you eat I'll never know" he murmured absentmindedly as he began hunting for a takeout menu.

Grinning at his victory, Tony suddenly sobered.

"Uh…boss?"

Finding a suitable menu, Gibbs looked up and felt another stab of relief at how guilt free Tony now looked.

"Yeah DiNozzo, what is it?" he answered with a small smile.

"Can I stay here tonight? Tim will probably wake up in the middle of the night, and he probably won't know why he's here. At least if I'm in the room with him he won't freak."

Gibbs stared at the younger man for a moment, before crossing the distance between them in three strides.

Tony winced, clearly expecting a headslap.

Instead, much to his surprise, he was pulled into another hug.

"You, Tony" Gibbs said as he released him "are one good kid. Even if you drive me insane. Of course you can stay here, you know you don't need to ask. Why don't you go on in and find something to watch, and I'll order something for us, ok?"

Beaming at his control over the TV, Tony nodded and made to dash through into the living room.

Pausing at the doorway, struck by a sudden thought, he turned a hopeful face in Gibbs' direction.

"Boss?"

"Yeah Tony?"

"Can we get that cookie dough icecream that we had the last time, it was _amazing._ Plus, those extra few pounds really become you. _"_

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"Don't push your luck. Go on now, hop it."

…

TBC

….


	4. Youngest Second

Sitting bolt upright in the bed as the beginnings of dawn started to creep into the room, Tim swooned as the raging headache hit him with its full force. Wincing, he looked around his surroundings in confusion.

This was he and Tony's room at Gibbs' place.

What was he doing at his boss' house?

Why did he feel like there was an international tap dancing competition going on inside his head?

Glancing over at the other single bed in the room, he was further confused when he saw Tony occupying it, fast asleep, his gentle snores radiating throughout their room. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he rested his aching head on them, and tried his best to think.

His gaze wandered to a tall glass of water and two painkillers on his nightstand.

Not even caring how it got there, he gratefully fired the two pills into his mouth and downed the entire glass of water in one noisy gulp.

Instantly feeling a bit better for quenching his thirst, he resumed his silent thinking.

Downstairs, Gibbs, who had long since risen, was also thinking.

Thinking hard.

He'd had cause to discipline his people for a vast array of transgressions throughout the years. Drinking when they shouldn't, drinking too much when they shouldn't, putting themselves in danger, going out of contact, bad attitudes…you name it, they'd done it.

He therefore knew how to deal with all of these things with his four.

He was a man who valued experience, and he relied upon that experience to get him through the difficult task of holding any of his four to account.

Until now that is…

He dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

 _Drugs?_

… _Tim?_

It was the most baffling situation he had ever found himself in. Every time his mind registered the horrific word, his stomach did another nauseating somersault. His insides clenched in fear as he thought of what could have happened to the kid if he and Tony hadn't turned up.

For all the scrapes his four had gotten themselves into, this one, hands down took the biscuit.

Whilst he was now calm and in control of himself, he was still murderously furious.

Tim knew his feelings on _anything_ that put him, or any of the others, in danger.

Any kind of danger, let alone life threatening danger.

He could cheerfully strangle the kid, but he knew he'd miss him too much.

Deep down, he knew that Tim had been acting out.

He'd been feeling hurt and isolated, and decided, drunkenly, to try and fit in with a different crowd of people.

A crowd of people, which Gibbs did _not_ approve of.

Whilst Gibbs understood all that, he instinctively knew there was more to it.

Something had been bothering the boy earlier on in the day, and what had happened had just served to push him over the edge he was already teetering on.

Gibbs' jaw tightened as he resolved to get to the bottom of everything that had gone down yesterday, whether Timothy McGee felt like sharing or not.

Sipping his coffee, his ears twitched when he heard the tell tale sounds of movement from upstairs.

Straining, he deduced from the light footsteps, that it was Tim and not Tony.

Feeling another wave of weariness come over him, he quickly stood and began preparing some cereal and coffee for his uncharacteristically delinquent junior agent.

Upstairs in the bathroom, Tim clutched the toilet bowl that had just received the contents of his stomach, and bit his lip from letting out a groan so load it was surely wake the sleeping Tony.

His memories of yesterday had come flooding back to him with a nauseating clarity.

He had left the office without telling anyone, having jumped to the wrong conclusions.

He had deliberately put himself out of contact, in the middle of a case.

He had gotten himself wasted, on the job.

As bad as all these things were, they were nothing he hadn't done and been thoroughly punished for, before.

He knew Gibbs would be furious with him for it, but he knew he could and would easily forgive him.

Had that been all he had done, he might have been able to force himself to walk downstairs where he knew the elder man was probably waiting, silently sipping coffee, and thinking up ways to kill him.

But…that _hadn't_ been all that he'd done….

His stomach twirled and spinned as he recalled blearily the bag of small pink tablets as they had danced in front of his face.

His insides contracted with an almost painful force as he remembered the miserably weak protest he'd put up, before childishly and recklessly holding out his hand for the unknown, but obviously illicit substance.

He crouched over in pain as his stomach churned when he thought of the looks on both Tony and Gibbs' faces as they had found him.

Found him…just in time.

He quickly ducked his head into the toilet bowl as another wave of nausea overcame him.

Moments passed and he merely lay limply on the tiled floor, clutching with all his might to the toilet bowl, as if it was a precious life raft.

Remembering the tortured expression that adorned Gibbs' face, he shook his head.

He had acted like a petulant child yesterday, the least he could do was act his age today.

Carefully straightening up, he quickly rinsed his mouth out with Tony's thirty five dollar a bottle mouthwash and prayed he wouldn't kill him for it.

Squaring his shoulders, he quickly but quietly re-entered the bedroom housing the sleeping DiNozzo, and changed his alcohol reeking clothes in the darkness as stealthily as possible.

Both he and Tony had an appreciable quantity of clothes at their boss' place, and Tim was glad to change out of yesterdays clothing.

Taking a deep breath, he eyed the bedroom door for a moment as he collected himself.

 _Just go down there and get it over with_ his inner mind screamed, whilst his feet remained resolutely rooted the spot.

 _Imagine how you would have felt if it was Tony that ran off like that_ his conscious chided, which, in conjunction with the disappointment he had felt emanating from his boss in the car ride home, was enough to jerk his legs into action.

He found himself quietly padding down the stairs moments later in sock clad feet, trying valiantly to control his breathing as he went.

Halting outside the kitchen doorway, he steeled himself, before gently pushing the door open.

As suspected, Gibbs was fully dressed and sipping his fourth coffee of the day at the dining table.

Seeing Tim enter, he looked over his newspaper, with an x-ray level stare.

Pushing out the chair beside him with his foot, he jerked his head at the breakfast laid out upon the table.

"Sit down there and eat that."

His voice was calm, and level, but…Tim heard the undercurrent that lay behind every syllable.

Gibbs was pissed.

He was nuclear level pissed.

Feeling that putting anything in his stomach would be a heinously bad idea, but knowing better than to object, Tim cautiously sat himself down.

When Gibbs merely returned to his newspaper, and didn't offer any further speech, he began to squirm.

Forcing his mouth to open to insert the cereal, he concentrated on eating.

Eating… he could do.

Eventually though, the bowl was left empty and Tim had nothing else to concentrate on, and his fidgeting increased. He opened his mouth nervously to say something…what, he wasn't sure. But he had to say _something._

Before he could get a word out however, he was interrupted by the arrival of a still sleepy looking Tony.

"Morning boss, morning probie" he greeted with a yawn, throwing himself down in his usual perch on the other side of Gibbs, so that he was facing across from an ashen faced McGee.

"Morning Tony" the elder man greeted, and Tim felt a wrenching pain in his gut in the different tone their boss was using with the senior field agent.

He was more than used to _Tony_ being the one in trouble, and _him_ being the good one.

The reversal of tables certainly didn't sit well with Tim, and he drooped miserably in his chair.

Tony's breakfast was brief, as Gibbs' cell pinged with an update on the case.

Hurriedly finishing the last of his cereal, he declared he was going to go and get ready for work and scarpered from the table. Tim made to go after him, seeing as he could probably do with a shower, but as he stood, he was stopped.

"Hold it."

Both boys turned to look at the older man with matching looks of confusion.

"Boss?"

Setting down his newspaper, Gibbs leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

"Tony, you go on up and get ready on your own, Tim isn't going into the office today."

A slight silence descended as both men digested this, but as Gibbs cleared his throat meaningfully, Tony took his cue. Throwing McGee a deeply sympathetic look, he swept from the kitchen, saying silent prayers for the idiot probie in his head.

Down in the kitchen, Tim was once again squirming in his chair.

"Boss…what do you mean I'm not going into the office today?" he asked quietly, not sure he even wanted to know the answer.

"I mean, you're not going into the office today" Gibbs answered shortly, pulling himself up in his own chair in preparation of the little chat he had planned with his junior agent.

Gulping, Tim nervously chewed at his cuticles.

"Are you… suspending me?"

The question hung in the air for a moment whilst Gibbs digested this.

"No. Though I should. I've fired men for less than what you pulled yesterday, understand?"

Tim nodded gratefully, looking visibly and extremely relieved.

Gibbs sighed as he watched him, he never had any intention of suspending the younger man, ever.

There was, to his mind, nothing his four could pull that he couldn't deal with…in house.

Though he had to admit, Tim was pushing him to very pin of his collar with his unusual behaviour.

"I understand boss" the junior agent murmured, feeling slightly dizzy with relief. He knew that if he worked under any other leader at NCIS, he'd have been out the door without a second thought. Whilst this fact relieved him, it also made his already potent guilt bubble viciously in his stomach.

Gibbs didn't deserve the grief he clearly caused him.

Leaning forwards slightly on the table, the elder man fixed Tim with a look so serious that the younger man had to work hard to keep from passing out.

"You are not going into the office, you are using one of your days owing instead. I'll clear it with HR. You will take two hours at the maximum, to go to your place and pack a…substantial bag. You will be back here within those allotted two hours. Have I made myself clear so far?"

A rapidly paling Tim nodded instantly.

The fact that he would be grounded went without saying really, but…Gibbs usually trusted him to serve whatever confinement he'd earned himself out at his own place. Clearly…he didn't have that trust in him right now, and that alone made Tim wince with regret.

"You will spend the morning completely cleaning out the garden shed. It's a shambles, hasn't been touched in years. You will completely gut it out, clean and reorganise all the tools that are there. I want it spotless when I come home, is that also clear?"

Another pale nod was offered, as Tim hid a grimace.

He despised outdoor type things, which clearly his boss both knew and had decided to take full advantage of.

"You will then have lunch, I left out some burgers for you last night. Once you've eaten, and so help me you _better_ have eaten, you will spend the afternoon doing some writing."

Tim merely looked his confusion as he sat dejectedly in his chair.

"Writing, boss?"

Nodding his head slowly, Gibbs sighed inwardly.

"You will find a box of cold cases in the basement. Instead of using your computers and… _whatsits_ to condense and analyse them, you will do the entire box my hand. Understood?"

Despite how much trouble he was in and despite how guilty he felt, Tim had to work _very_ hard not to make a face at that.

It would take _hours_ and he would no doubt get carpal tunnel.

One look at the stern expression on Gibbs' face however convinced him to merely nod his head and murmur another "yes boss."

"I'll bring dinner home with me. Any questions?"

Tim shook his head immediately, but again stopped when the movement brought about another bout of nausea.

Gibbs stared at him closely for a moment, before letting out a weary sigh.

"I will deal with you when I get home tonight. I want you thinking all day about an explanation as to your behaviour. I know full well there was something up with you before the whole conference room debacle, and I'm going to hear about it. Clear?"

Wincing at his boss' clear omniscience, Tim nodded woefully.

Had he been that obvious?

"I have never, ever been so disappointed in you Tim" Gibbs muttered, letting his voice freely be coloured by said disappointment. "I don't know how you could have behaved the way you did, I would never have believed it of you, of _any_ of you. It would be in your best interests to have a _lot_ of answers for me for when I get home here tonight, do you understand?"

Wishing the ground would just open and swallow him hole, Tim managed to nod.

"I'm so sorry boss" he murmured in anguish, "I never meant to let you down like this…I can't believe what I did… you must hate me."

With the last four words his voice wavered, and he dropped his head down so Gibbs couldn't see the dull flush that was creeping across his cheeks.

A short silence ensued at his words.

Gibbs' answer was unsurprisingly non-verbal.

The headslap made an already aching head much worse, and Tim yelped loudly in response.

Gibbs stood, and bodily turning the chair that McGee was sitting in towards him, he crouched down in front of him.

"I am furious with you Tim, I'm disappointed in you and I was sick with worry over you, but I could never _hate_ you. Never. I don't ever want to hear you saying that again, you understand me?"

Tim gaped at the uncharacteristic display of openness and vaguely registered his head nodding for what felt like the hundredth time of the still early morning.

"We will sort this out…it won't be pleasant, but I promise you that we'll sort this out, ok?"

Gibbs' voice was softer as he spoke, wanting Tim to feel guilty and ashamed of his behaviour, but _never_ to feel like he'd lost his place in his life.

"Ok boss" Tim responded, with a small smile that he was amazed Gibbs returned.

Standing up, the elder man nodded and slipped back into pragmatic mode.

"Ok. You're on KP duty in case you hadn't guessed, so get this place cleaned up. When you're finished, get to your place and get back here, and then get on with your chores, got it?"

"Got it boss."

With that, Gibbs made to sweep from the room, but halted for a moment.

Grasping McGee by the shoulder, he looked down at him seriously.

"I meant what I said Tim, you're in a whole truck load of trouble, but you're still _my_ trouble."

With that, he clapped the younger man on the shoulder and quickly exited the kitchen, hollering up the stairs to Tony to get his ass in the car.

As McGee sat amongst the breakfast debris, and hearing the front door slam as Tony rushed out after their boss, he smiled to himself.

Sure, his boss was going to kill him, and he might not be able to sit for his own children's weddings, but…Gibbs still wanted him.

With that thought cheering him on a day he thought he could never feel relief, he began to clear away the table.

He could get through this.

…

TBC

…


	5. One of Four

Sweat trickled down Tim's back as he worked diligently. Whilst he had been initially horrified by the cleaning punishment Gibbs had dished out, he now found himself oddly grateful for it. The manual labour under the hot sun was a welcome distraction from the mess he was in. Pulling and dragging heavy boxes was a welcome outlet for his built up frustration at himself.

Hours passed and soon it was lunch time. Glancing around the now spotlessly clean shed, with equally gleaming tools adorning the walls, Tim gave a small smile.

At least he could still do something right without screwing up.

Traipsing into the house, he quickly dashed upstairs for a shower. As he changed into fresh clothes from the vast assortment he'd gathered from his place, he wondered briefly how long he'd be staying at his boss' place for.

Remembering his actions, he grimaced.

He would probably die from old age in this house before Gibbs was finished with him.

Padding downstairs, he quickly threw the now defrosted burgers under the grill and busied himself making a rustic salad. He didn't feel particularly hungry, but he knew that Gibbs would totally freak if he came home and he had neglected to eat.

He was funny about things like that when it came to the four of them.

Moments later, he found himself wolfing down his food with a gusto that surprised him.

Ok, so maybe he was hungry then.

Quickly tidying up the kitchen, he let out an audible groan as he remembered the second part of today's chores.

Cold cases.

Cold cases…by hand.

Dragging himself down to the basement reluctantly, he again grimaced when he realised that Gibbs didn't even count today as part of his punishment. This was just to keep him busy so he didn't self destruct.

Quickly locating the allocated box, he sighed at its size.

This was going to _suck._

Lifting the box up with a grunt, he turned to make his way back upstairs, before catching his leg on the edge of the workbench. Stumbling, he threw out his arms to catch himself, dropping the file box in the process.

Cursing under his breath, he bent down to retrieve the box when something caught his eye on an opposite table.

Straightening up, he reached out and picked up the object that grabbed his attention.

His own face beamed up at him from the frame, accompanied with matching grins from Tony, Ziva and Abby with Gibbs standing behind them with his arms somehow draped over the four of them.

Tim's throat constricted slightly as he looked down at the photograph, encased in a clearly Gibbs made frame.

It was a photo from a few years ago, on the rare occasion that they all actually got time to hang with each other outside work. Gibbs had taken them to dinner at a place Tony and Tim were dying to try out, and then to a show that Ziva and Abby had been dying to see.

As a reward for a particularly well done job on a tough case.

Mentally kicking himself viciously for causing the man that had done more for him than his other father would ever have dreamed of, McGee set the photo down gently and gazed at it fondly.

Director Shepherd had taken it…she'd been so full of life that day, looking her young years for a change, having been effectively ordered by Gibbs to accompany them.

Tim smiled as he remembered the constant bickering that flown back and forth between Jenny and Jethro.

They were like an old married couple…always had been, well…before she…

Brushing that memory away as quickly as he could, Tim grabbed the box and set off upstairs.

Settling himself at the dining room table, he grabbed the first file and set to work and was soon lost in a haze of dates, suspects and a stabbing pain in his writing wrist.

At the office, things were going smoother than Gibbs could have hoped for and he let out a breath of relief.

The case had been quickly wrapped up; the guilty party having left so much DNA at the scene, that Abby was nearly affronted by the sample load heaped upon her. Tony and Ziva had accompanied their boss in apprehending the suspect, and for now, he was securely locked away in federal holding.

Sitting at his desk, Gibbs watched silently as Tony and Ziva worked diligently at their desks typing up their case reports.

His mind began to wander…

 _Kelly had been just four…five maybe, when she'd stopped her father's heart mid-beat. He had entered the house wearily, after a long debriefing to hear the sounds of Shannon in the kitchen preparing dinner. Throwing his jacket down on the sofa, he had glanced up the stairs to see his little girl sitting in the middle of them, so lost in her little world she hadn't heard him coming in._

 _About to open his mouth to call to her for their usual greeting hug, he was stopped in his tracks…_

 _The little girl had somehow gotten a hold of her mother's blood pressure medication. She had somehow managed to screw the cap off the bottle. Several pink pills were held tightly in her little fist, as she raised it to her mouth…_

 _He'd let out a fearsome roar at the little one, his heart clenching in fear as he'd raced up the stairs to wrest the tablets from her grip. Her big eyes had filled with tears in response; he never raised his voice with her._

" _No…sweets daddy" she had pleaded, as he threw the tablets in the container with shaking hands…_

That fear, that gut wrenching fear he had felt when his little girl had a hand full of pink pills, was the exact same fear he had felt when his boy had held the pink tablet to his mouth…a kind of intense fear the he never thought he'd experience again.

Sighing, he stared blindly at his computer screen, not really seeing anything that was displaying on it.

He still didn't know how he was going to deal with Tim; the whole situation was still bizarre to him. He knew whatever punishment he decided on had to be sufficiently severe and unpleasant, but, at the same time he was cautious not to go overboard.

Tim had made a mistake, granted one hell of a bad one, but… he was still a good kid.

He needed to remember that when deciding what the hell he was going to do with him.

He was already grounded for the rest of his life. That was a no brainer.

Well ok…he conceded to himself, maybe not the rest of his _life,_ but…definitely the immediate and indefinite future of it.

Chewing his bottom lip slightly, he descended into deep thought. The only sounds that could be heard in the squad room were the soft tapping of keys, and the odd snarl from Ziva when she caught Tony staring at her chest.

Hours passed, and with a jerk Gibbs realised it was finishing time.

Standing up wearily, he have the usual "wrap it up, but keep your cells on" order and bid both Tony and Ziva a warm goodnight when they left after gathering their belongings.

He was far from surprised when Tony doubled back, leaving Ziva holding the elevator, to talk to him in low tones.

"Boss…I need you to promise me that Tim will still be alive tomorrow…not that I care or anything, but finding another probie is a lot of hassle."

Grinning at the obvious cover up of concern, Gibbs looked up at his eldest boy with pride.

"I promise Tony" he replied, "besides; I'd hate to put you to any inconvenience."

Returning the grin, Tony nodded and swept after Ziva, holding up his hands in innocence as she began growling at him for some prank or other he had pulled.

Realising that Tim had only eaten a burger or so today, Gibbs hurried from the office in search of the kid's favourite take out.

A half or so later, and the team leader found himself on his doorstep laden down with food. Manoeuvring himself into the house, he found a deep in concentration McGee at the dining table, still working on the cold cases he'd dished out.

Depositing the take out bag on the table, he smiled slightly when Tim jumped, clearly being so engrossed he hadn't heard him enter.

"Boss" he stammered, "I'm sorry…I'm nearly done, I just have…uhh, three more to do I think. I'll get them done, I-"

"Relax Tim" Gibbs interrupted gently, "throw those files back down in the basement, and then come back up here to eat ok?"

Nodding, the younger man hastened to do as instructed and scampered down to the basement with the heavy box in tow. Clambering back up the stairs, he caught the waft of what smelled like his favourite Indian food.

Edging back into the kitchen, his favourite dish was laid out for him with his favourite soda and he felt another stab of guilt.

Even when he was in as much trouble as you could pretty much _be_ in, the elder man still managed to show he cared.

"Thanks boss" Tim murmured softly, as he dropped down into his place.

Nodding, Gibbs looked over the younger man with a raking gaze.

"How'd the shed go Tim?"

Beaming despite himself, the junior agent launched into an explanation as to the transformation of the shed and the new system for storing tools he'd designed. Gibbs listened amiably; feeling relieved to hear the boy's excited chatter.

"That's great" he praised when Tim fell silent, "I knew you'd do a good job."

Tim smiled his shy smile and turned back to his food, and for a while both men just ate in comfortable silence.

Eventually though, the last morsel had been cleared from both plates, and Gibbs knew he had to put the kid out his anticipative misery.

He could only hope that the punishment he'd eventually decided on was both fair and effective.

"Ok Tim, go on in to the living room. I'll be through in a minute."

As expected, the younger man paled slightly, but nonetheless he nodded immediately and made his way obediently into the sitting room.

Tidying up slowly, Gibbs took the time spent in the kitchen to reaffirm to himself that he was about to dish out was fair, merited, and above all else, in Tim's best interests. Drying the last piece of cutlery, he dried his hands and strode purposefully into the living room.

The sight that greeted him almost broke his heart.

Tim was curled up on his usual spot on the sofa, wrapped around a cushion, looking like he'd just buried his childhood dog.

Groaning inwardly at how young the kid looked, Gibbs sat in the arm chair facing him and leaned forwards.

"Ok Tim" he began, "it's time for you to give me some answers."

Looking up at him pleadingly, McGee began to fidget in his seat.

"Boss…I don't know what I can say, I screwed up…big time" he murmured dolefully.

Gibbs stared at him intently, before opening his own mouth.

"I know that Tim, but before we talk about your punishment, I want to know _everything._ I want to know what upset you in the squad room besides Tony's teasing, I want to know why you got so upset over that misunderstanding when you should know that I would never allow Tony to speak about you that way, never mind agree with him. I want to know what you were thinking by running out of the office and out of contact, and _I definitely want to know what the hell you were thinking when I walked into that dive to find you with DRUGS in your hand."_

Tim gaped at the older man.

"How did you know Tony was teasing me?" he squeaked, "he's going to think I told you! Boss you have to tell him I didn't rat him out, he'll never let me hear the end of it otherwise."

"Tony came to _me_ and told me that he was teasing you, Tim. He felt extremely bad about it, and he's been punished, he doesn't think you told me anything, so don't worry about it."

Another gaping silence ensued from the younger man.

"Tony…ratted _himself_ out?"

Biting back a smile at the look of shock on his youngest boy's face, Gibbs nodded.

"Boss…you didn't need to punish him, it was no big deal."

Shaking his head slightly, the elder man resolved to stay on track.

"Yes, I did Tim but that is between Tony and I, we're talking about _you_ right now. So, I'll ask you again, what got you so riled up in the bull pen yesterday? The truth, now."

A deep and vehement flush began to creep across the younger man's face as his eyes pooled into pleading spheres.

"Please boss" he all but whispered "punish me all you want, I deserve it, just please…don't make me talk about it."

Growing more and more alarmed by the minute, Gibbs shook his head vigorously and stood.

Striding over to Tim who grimaced in clearly anticipation of a head slap, he quickly sat down beside him and placed a warm hand on his knee.

"No Tim" he said firmly, but gently, "I need to know, I'm sorry, but I _need_ to know."

Chewing his lip and fidgeting for a moment, the junior agent realised that compliance was inevitable.

Besides, he owed Gibbs an explanation…at the very least.

Fishing out his cell, he quickly opened up a message thread and with shaking hands, handed it to his boss.

Grateful for the easy reach of his glasses, Gibbs slipped them on and blinked as he tried to focus on the bright screen in front of him.

God he really hated these god damned phones.

The first message he saw, was clearly from McGee.

 _Hey dad…it's me, Tim. Long time no see, huh? Anyway…I got talking to Penny the other day (she still doesn't let me call her nana) and she suggested I drop you a message…I don't think you had this number until now…so, how have you been doing? It's been a few years since we last…talked, and I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe meet up this weekend for lunch? Penny said you were going to be in town on business, so if you're free, let me know!_

Having a sinking feel in his stomach that he knew where this was going, Gibbs read on.

 _Timothy. I'm afraid I'm simply far too busy this weekend to have any time to waste on lunches. I hear from your sister you are still a junior agent after all this time. How disappointing. Perhaps you should spend less time lunching and more time trying to make something of yourself. Please do not bother me again unless it is important. Send my wishes to Penny._

Gibbs felt the room swim in and out of focus as he read and re read the answering message.

A sick, burning pool of rage was beginning to froth up in his gut.

How _dare_ that uppity asshole tear Tim down like that?

No _wonder_ the kid had been in such a state.

Glancing beside him, he saw the young man still fidgeting nervously and staring at the floor.

Without uttering a word, Gibbs reached out and pulled the boy into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest.

Pressing his face against Tim's soft hair, the elder man sighed.

How could it be that out of all of his team, Abby appeared to be the only one with kind, loving and adoring parents?

He held the kid to him for a long time, not saying a word, just holding him. He soon felt the tension begin to slip away from the tight shoulders, as Tim began to relax for the first time in many, many hours.

As he eventually let him go, he tactfully pretended not to notice the teary quality of his youngest boy's eyes.

"Tim…" he began, trying valiantly to keep the burning anger he felt for Admiral McGee out of his voice "I'm so sorry that that happened to you."

Shaking his head immediately, a soft "s'not your fault boss" could be heard in the quiet room.

"I don't care, it should never have happened" Gibbs replied softly.

"Why didn't you come to me when you got that message?" he added, knowing that if the young man had, none of this mess would have happened.

"I…" McGee trailed off, returning his gaze to the floor.

"You what, Tim?"

Drawing in a deep breath, and looking up at his boss, the junior agent tried again.

"I didn't want to bother you, it wasn't your problem."

This apparently, judging by the murderous look that crossed Gibbs' face was quite the _wrong_ thing to say.

"You didn't want to _bother_ me?" the elder man repeated incredulously.

Tim cringed as he practically felt the anger burning beside him, and nodded.

Gritting his teeth, Gibbs composed himself.

"If you _ever_ and I do mean _ever_ keep something like this to yourself again, because you don't want to _bother_ me, I will skin you alive. Do I make myself clear?"

Gulping, Tim nodded immediately and cursed his stupidity.

He should have gone straight to Gibbs; he would have made him feel better.

He always did.

He could have avoided this whole sorry mess.

"So" Gibbs continued, working hard to keep his voice level "you were understandably upset by that…text, and then you overheard Tony and I talking about a different Tim, and lost it. Instead of walking into the conference room and demanding to know what was what, you left. In the middle of a case. You turned off your cell, and you got drunk. You made some new friends, and got even drunker. You then decided it would be a good idea, as a federal agent, to accept _drugs_ of unknown description from these people you had known less than two hours. Is that a fair summation of events, Tim?"

Paling to a deathly white, McGee managed to jerk his head in the affirmative.

"Two points, Tim" Gibbs answered. "Point one; I completely understand that you were upset about what your…father said to you. I completely understand that, and I know you'll come to me the next time if something like that happens, _wont you?"_

The answering nod allowed him to press on.

"Point two, you should know by now that you are one an incredibly important person in a lot of people's lives…Tony's, Ziva's, Abby's…and mine. Not to mention everyone else. There is _no one_ I know that would speak about you the way Tony and I were talking about Connery. There is also _no way in hell_ I would ever allow it, if I heard it. Now, you should have known that, shouldn't you?"

The second answering nod, again allowed him to press on.

"Whilst I understand that you were very upset, _nothing_ and I do mean _nothing_ gives you the right to act in the outrageous way you did, does it?"

A stuttering and stammering "no boss" was offered in meek response to the unusually long bout of speech from the elder man.

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs addressed the most pressing issue.

" _Drugs_ Tim? What on _earth_ were you thinking?"

Gulping down air as if it were in scarce supply, McGee tried to formulate an answer.

He went with the brutal truth.

"I was being a child, boss. I was angry and wasted and I thought what the hell, no one cares about me anyway. I didn't think it through, I just…acted. It was inexcusable of me, both professionally and personally, and I don't know if you can believe me or not seeing as how I've acted, but I promise you it will _never_ happen again."

A brief silence hung over the two men.

"Of course I can believe you Tim" Gibbs murmured, "I'll always believe you."

The younger man shot him a look of pure relied and gratitude in response.

"Ok, now we know why you behaved the way you did, we can deal with it. I take it that you know and understand that you both need and deserve to be thoroughly punished for this Tim?"

The sandy brown head nodded instantly, much to Gibbs' relief, who took a deep breath and prepared to hand down the sentence the kid had earned himself.

"Ok then. I think it goes without saying that you're grounded, indefinitely. When I feel you've earned back my trust, and are no longer capable of causing yourself undue danger, we can talk about paroling you. Until then, it's work to home and home to work, you understand? And by home, I mean here."

Again, the tousled head nodded…although slightly slower this time.

This was going to suck…Gibbs didn't think things like internet, or computers or video games were important, and as if on cue, the elder man spoke again.

"You will only have your cell during working hours, at home, you hand it to me. The same goes for your laptop and anything else like that. No video games, no internet and no friends or fun. Is that clear?"

This time the nodding of the head was morose and despondent, but it was a nod nonetheless.

"Verbal answer Tim."

"Yes boss" the younger man replied, fighting hard to keep the misery out of his voice by reminding himself he deserved everything he was getting.

"Good. That takes care of the…non corporal aspect of your punishment then."

McGee stiffened and waited for the verdict to be read out.

"I think you know you're not getting away with just one conversation with my belt, don't you?"

Groaning inwardly, but indeed knowing that this would be the likely outcome, Tim nodded.

"I know boss…"

Somehow finding the resolve to retain his stern face when all he wanted to do was pull the miserable looking kid into his arms, Gibbs took another deep breath.

"How many things did you do wrong Tim?" he demanded sternly.

Quickly racking him brains, Tim counted up his transgressions, and winced.

"Four boss" he murmured, hoping that this was the correct answer.

Nodding in the affirmative, Gibbs looked at him sternly.

"And they were?" he prompted.

Gulping in another intake of air, Tim opened his mouth obediently.

"Not coming to you when I was upset when I know I'm supposed to, jumping to the wrong conclusions by underestimating myself, when I know I'm not supposed to, going off contact in the middle of a case…and….endangering myself and others with my stupid behaviour."

Feeling a thunderbolt of pride for his youngest boy, Gibbs nodded.

"Good Tim, that's good" he praised gently.

"So, tonight you're going to learn what happens, _again,_ when you do not come to me for help when you need it, understand?"

"Yes boss" Tim all but whispered.

Nodding, Gibbs forced himself to press on, loathing himself as he did so.

"Tomorrow night we will deal with the jumping to wrong conclusions, the night after the going off contact and the night after that…your life threatening behaviour. Is that clear?"

Tim nodded, and bit back a groan.

He was never, ever going to sit again.

"It's clear boss."

Gibbs surveyed the younger man for a moment, and came to an impromptu decision.

"Ok then, how about we get tonight taken care of?"

Wincing despite himself, Tim nodded, and heaved himself up. He began to make his way across to the armrest that Tony had been bent over just last night, before he was stopped in his tracks.

"No, Tim. Not over there."

Looking down at his boss, Tim merely looked his confusion.

"Boss?"

Gibbs thought rapidly for a moment, and reaffirmed his decision.

"Come here Tim" he said softly, pointing to a spot directly beside his right hand side.

Feeling distinctly bewildered, but not wanting to get into any more trouble, Tim did as he was told.

The two agents looked at each for a moment, before Gibbs suddenly reached out.

Within a millisecond, Tim found himself staring at the ground, as Gibbs placed him deftly over his knee, wrapping a firm hand around his waist as he did so.

It took a moment for the position he was into register in the shocked McGee's brain, but when it did, he immediately began to struggle.

"No boss" he spluttered in indignation "no, not like this…let me up, come on, let me up!"

Merely wrapping a firmer arm around the struggling agent, Gibbs ignored his protests.

Quickly reaching up and tugging the kid's sweat pants that he had clearly changed into down to his knees, and pooling his boxers down to join them a minute later, the elder man prepared himself.

He had never spanked either of his boys like this before, being over his knee was usually a position reserved for Abby, and occasionally, Ziva.

This time however, and for the reason he was being punished, Gibbs just… _knew_ that Tim needed to be closer to him. He didn't know how he knew it; he just knew that he _did_ know it.

Raising his hand high, and continuing to ignore the squawking protests of his youngest boy, the team leader lay down the first swat on the now bared backside across his knee.

Despite his outrage, Tim let out an instinctive hiss at the sting that flared across his cheeks.

How could a _hand_ hurt that _much?_

Gibbs wasted no time in bringing the second swat down, and holding tightly to his still struggling agent, he quickly settled into a steady tempo.

Within a few moments, Tim stopped fighting the hold on him, as the pain began to mount in his rear.

The hard and wide hand methodically spanked every inch of the backside, ensuring no area escaped it's attention.

All Gibbs' years of carpentry had given his hands a leathery texture, and judging by the yelping that was now escaping his junior agent, he was putting them to extremely good use.

Soon, Tim began to sniffle despite himself as the stinging pain descended to his sit spots, as Gibbs lit a fire across the tender area. He tried to hold himself as still as possible, knowing that despite how embarrassing it was to be put across his boss' knee, he deserved every swat that was besieging his rear end.

Minutes passed, and the only sounds to be heard in the living room were the brisk and crisp swats of hand meeting backside, and the whimpering yelps that accompanied them.

It wasn't long before the first tears fell from Tim's eyes, as his posterior was taking on a crimson glow.

Though the belt may have a more immediate bite, Gibbs' hands were nothing to be sniffed at, and when a particularly searing swat landed across his upper thighs, Tim gave up his stoic front and began to sob over his boss' knee.

For his part, Gibbs was relieved to feel the boys torso go limp across his lap and to hear the sobbing waft up from the tousled brown head.

As much as he despised hearing any of his people cry, he knew that this was an indication as lesson had been learned, and that Tim had completely succumbed to his punishment.

He also knew, that some of the boy's tears, had nothing to do with his stinging rear and everything to do with his tyrannical father.

Tim needed to cry about that, and Gibbs knew that without the position the kid was currently in, he never would.

Dishing out a last flurry of hard and deliberate swats across the now ruby red backside, he let the last one fall with an intense force before instinctively reaching up to the small of the kid's back and rubbing small and comforting circles on it.

The punishment itself, had not been that intense, though there was no doubt in the elder mans mind that it had been effective.

The spanking he'd dished out was commensurate with the offence that had warranted it, and Gibbs had cut the kid some slack about not coming to him about his father.

He knew Tim had deep rooted issues there, and working on them would take time.

As he continued to rub the now quietly weeping kids back, he grimaced when he thought about tomorrow's punishment.

There was no way Tim wouldn't be feeling the belt for that one.

As the weeping began to subside into a quiet snuffling, the team leader very gently pulled the boxers and sweats back up over the crimson backside, and winced when Tim yelped in response.

Very carefully, he guided the boy up off his knee, and set him on his feet.

Standing up himself, he tiled the kid's chin up to level eye contact between them, wincing at the watery quality of the normally dancing eyes.

"You understand why I punished you like that, Tim?" he asked quietly.

A brief pause ensued as Tim pondered his answer.

"Yes boss…" he answered, his voice hitched…"and…uhh…thanks….I guess."

Biting back a grin at the idea of one of his lot saying _thanks_ for blistering their rear ends, Gibbs nodded.

He knew what the kid meant.

Opening his arms widely, he was rewarded when his youngest boy launched himself into them.

Nuzzling his face into his boss' broad chest, Tim sighed a contented sigh.

Sure, his ass was on fire.

Sure, his boss had just put him over his knee like an unruly five year old.

But…as the elder mans arms wrapped tightly around him, and as the gentle words of praise that always followed a punishment began to waft into his ear, Tim McGee knew one thing for sure.

The father you're born with, isn't necessarily the father you'll grow old with.

….

TBC

…

A/N: This is my first time writing an OTK spanking scene with one of the boys, so please let me know what you think!

Thanks for reading!


	6. Two of Four

Entering the office behind Gibbs, Tim tensed.

He hadn't really seen Tony since the whole debacle had unfolded, and he was unsure of the elder agents reaction. Peeking tentatively behind Gibbs' back, he was relieved when Tony flashed him a very discreet, but obviously sympathetic and forgiving smile.

Throwing himself gratefully behind his desk, he let out a long breath.

Though Tony could drive him _insane_ , he knew that the agent had gone to bat for him with their angry boss, and that pretty much meant the world to him. He'd also done the same thing for Tony before; it was sort of like their unwritten code.

The day soon settled in, and as there was no active investigation on the books, the team were merely catching up on old case reports.

Gibbs lasted about an hour before letting out an irritated sigh, and striding out in search of coffee. Ziva lasted about five minutes after that, before ducking out to get lunch for them all. As the elevator doors pinged, obscuring the Mossad from view, Tony turned to the junior agent.

"How you doing McGee? How did it go?" he asked with an uncharacteristic gentleness to his voice, which he kept low.

Looking up, Tim shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I'm ok…boss is obviously mad as hell, but he's actually been great" he murmured.

Not being surprised by the team leader's well hidden delicacy shining through, Tony gave an approving nod and smiled.

"Be all over before you know it probie."

With that, he ducked his head back into his own files leaving a further relieved Tim in his wake.

Hours trundled on, and eventually the day came to a close, with a fully paperwork caught up team in tow.

Ziva and Tony shot out of the bull pen, anxious to get to the local bar for the trivia quiz challenge that was currently warring against the various NCIS teams. Abby and Palmer would meet them there. Tony spared a sympathetic glance to Tim as he scampered to the elevator.

Tim was obviously the master of quizzes, and his absence was a loss to their team's chances.

Seeing this discreet exchange between his two boys, Gibbs bit back a sigh.

He hated keeping one of them from having fun, but Tim's attendance tonight or any night in the foreseeable future was a complete write off.

"What do you want for dinner then?" he asked the junior agent conversationally, in an attempt to take his mind off the night he was missing out on.

"I don't mind boss, whatever you want" Tim replied politely, hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders.

Gibbs ginned.

"Oh really? How about I cook something then?"

The frantic shaking of the sandy brown head forced him to let out a chuckle.

"Didn't think so, how about some take out?" he laughed.

Grinning back, Tim nodded.

"Better safe than sorry boss."

Pretending to look affronted, Gibbs gently slapped the kid upside the head and guided him to the elevator.

An hour or two later saw the two agents chatting easily at the dining room table, finishing off the last of their meals.

Gibbs had grudgingly admitted that there was more to cuisine than fire roasted steak, and had actually found himself enjoying…whatever the hell kid called whatever the hell he was eating.

As he drank the last of his water, the elder man pondered for a moment.

Was it better to deal with the kid's second punishment now, and then hang out with him for a bit, or was it better to wait until before bed?

Deliberating, he decided in typical Marine style that it was better to get the damn thing over and done with.

Setting down his glass, he looked over at the relaxed looking Tim and bit back a sigh.

The kid would never believe it, but he didn't want to do what he was about to do, _just_ as much as the boy didn't want him to.

Shaking his head slightly in an effort to pull himself together, he took a deep breath.

"Ok Tim, go on into the living room now. I'll be with you in a minute."

Looking up through sad puppy eyes, the younger man bit his lip as he paled, but he eventually pulled himself to his feet with a murmured "yes boss" and disappeared into the living room.

Groaning to himself, the elder man also heaved himself to his feet and quickly cleared up the kitchen.

Knowing it was unfair to the boy to make him wait any longer than was strictly necessary, he chided himself for thinking about how hard this was for him, and forced himself to stride into the living room.

Once again, the sight that greeted him, made him halt in his tracks.

Tim was yet again curled up in a contrite little ball of misery, peeking dolefully out over the top of the cushion he was clutching.

Gibbs sighed.

As hard as it was to punish Tony, and even though he had cause to tan the backside of his senior agent far more than he did any of the others, DiNozzo always recovered with the most expediency.

Always bounced back to his roguish ways with an ease born of plenty experience.

With Tim…it genuinely felt like he was tearing the poor kid apart.

Gritting his teeth and again yelling at himself for thinking about himself, he quickly dropped into the same armchair that he had last night.

"What am I punishing you for tonight Tim?" he asked sternly, figuring there was no point in beating around the bush.

Kid knew why he was here.

He waited patiently for the MIT grad in front of him to formulate the requisite words.

"For…" Gibbs winced as the younger man gulped, "for….deliberately endangering myself because I jumped to the wrong conclusions."

Nodding his approval, the elder man levelled a glare at the younger one.

"Have I, or have I not, dealt with this issue with you _before?"_

Tim paled as he dropped his head down to study his hands.

"You have boss" he muttered quietly, once again berating himself for his asinine behaviour.

Another nod was offered as Gibb digested this.

"Clearly I didn't make much of an impression then, is that it?"

The head shot up in horror and shook with an equal distaste.

"No boss" Tim all but squeaked, "you made an impression….honestly!"

Gibbs had to bite back a smile at how young and innocent the earnest kid looked.

"But you did it _again?"_

McGee nodded dejectedly.

"I know boss…I'm really sorry, I just…I wasn't thinking."

Silence descended for a moment as Gibbs took that in.

True, the kid hadn't been thinking…he'd been in a worked up, hyped up state.

But…he was a trained federal agent, and quite frankly, he knew better.

"My job is to keep you all safe, how can I do that, if I can't count on you to behave rationally?"

The simple sentence was so loaded with obvious disappointment that the junior agent flinched involuntarily.

"Answer me Tim" Gibbs commanded sternly when it was clear the boy was becoming muted.

Racking his brain for suitable words, Tim floundered.

"I…I don't know boss" he said quietly, "it will never happen again, I promise."

Gibbs pondered for a moment as he stared at the junior agent in front of him.

"You could have ended up _dead_ because of a misunderstanding, you could have lost your _job_ because of a misunderstanding, and you could have injured or killed _others_ because of a misunderstanding."

A bubbling pool of an almost viscous nausea went streaming through Tim as he digested the words that seemed to hang in the air.

How could he have been so _stupid?_

"I'm so sorry" he stuttered out, fidgeting intensely with his cushion.

"I know you are Tim, I know that. This is the last time I'm going to repeat myself on the matter, but, you have _no_ reason to _ever_ think that Tony, or I, or _anyone_ would ever think or say things like what you heard about you. We put our lives in each others' hands on a daily basis, do you have any idea what that means? The trust we have to have in each other? I _cannot_ have you underestimating yourself like this; it puts not only you, but the team as whole, in danger. Do you understand that?"

"Yes boss" Tim replied immediately, and Gibbs was relieved to hear how strong and decisive his voice sounded.

Perhaps he had finally gotten through.

Better be safe than sorry though.

Feeling himself redden slightly as he struggled to vocalise these…these _emotions,_ Gibbs took a deep breath.

"Get this into your head…you're part of a family now, _my_ family…for god's sake, what do I have to do to get you to understand that you're like a son to me? Tony, Ziva, Abby, Ducky… _all_ of you, you're all very different, very challenging, but I wouldn't be without any of you. Now, have I _finally_ made myself clear on that?"

Gaping at the meteorite level of rarity that was the expression of emotion coming from the older man, Tim somehow managed to move his head up and down.

"I…well, yes…it's clear" he spluttered, feeling a warm feeling begin to replace the writing guilt in his stomach.

He had always thought of Gibbs as the father he never had, and whilst he had suspected the elder man reciprocated those feelings, hearing them tumbling out his mouth had done for the young man, what years of therapy surely could not.

"Well…good" Gibbs muttered gruffly, "now…how about we get this over and done with?"

Paling slightly, but holding his nerve much to the older man's pride, Tim nodded.

He made to stand up before a very recent recollection struck him.

"Boss…you're not…I mean, uhh…can I just bend over the arm rest like Tony this time?"

Biting back a chuckle as to how the kid always wanted to be treated the same as DiNozzo, Gibbs nodded.

"Yeah, you can Tim. But, if I feel you need to go over my knee anytime soon, I won't hesitate. I decide what your punishment is, got that?"

"Yes boss" McGee murmured.

Whilst there had been something…different, about last night where he was, after he had time to think about it, oddly grateful for being put over the elder mans knee, he was in no hurry to repeat the experience.

Squaring his shoulders, he quickly made his way over to the arm rest in question and as he was about to drape himself over it, he paused, and shot a questioning look at the silently observing Gibbs.

Reading the look without any difficulty, Gibbs shook his head sadly.

"Lose the pants Tim, you know better."

Gulping in misery, the young man obediently reached up and fumbled with the clasp of his belt, whilst Gibbs reached up and unbuckled his own.

Seconds later, McGee was bent over the sofa and Gibbs slipped into the familiar position behind him.

Placing a loose hand on the small of the kids back, he fought to steel himself.

Hell, he really didn't want to do this, but he knew he had to.

For Tim's sake.

Drawing his arm back, he quickly brought down the first lick of the doubled up belt, and held on slightly tighter to the kid as he bucked under his hand in response and let out a loud hiss.

The lick left an immediate red stripe on the otherwise pale backside, and gritting his teeth, Gibbs landed the second one just below it.

As usual, the elder man quickly settled into a steady rhythm, bringing down the thick leather belt down quickly and methodically.

It didn't take long for Tim to drop the stoic front, and to start sobbing under the constant onslaught of strokes.

Wincing at the sounds of his youngest boy's crying, Gibbs reluctantly tipped the kid forward slightly, and brought the belt down across the tender area of the exposed sit spots.

At this, the torso went completely limp over the sofa, and the loud sobbing petered out into a quiet and heaving weeping, letting the elder man knew they were nearly finished.

Starting a fresh and brisk cycle of searing swats, he landed another volley of progressional licks down on every inch of the now scarlet backside, paying careful attention to ensure no area went unattended to.

As he tipped the weeping McGee forward for the last time, he reluctantly laid down a precise flurry of licks across the already well punished sit spots.

With one last stinging swat, he threw the belt out of his hand with extreme relief.

Instantly crouching down beside the kid's face, he carded a gentle hard through the soft hair.

"Hey now, hey hey… it's ok buddy…all done now" he soothed, continuing to gently tousle the kid's hair.

As per his unofficial custom, Gibbs stayed crouched down beside his now gently sniffling and snuffling youngest boy, murmuring words of forgiveness and praise into his ears, until such time as the kid made to stand up.

Feeling the twinge in his legs from his buckled down posture, Gibbs was relieved to stand and busy himself with threading his belt back through his pants, giving McGee space and privacy to right his clothing.

When the tell tale gasp let him know the pants had been replaced over a stinging backside, the elder man turned to face his junior agent.

As usual, the tidal wave of guilt hit him as he surveyed the red eyes, the flushed face and the tear stained cheeks that greeted him.

Cupping the boy's face in his hand, he studied him intently.

"You ok Tim?" he asked gently.

Looking up through watery eyes, the young man gave a faint, but sincere smile.

"I'm ok boss" he replied quietly, his voice hitched.

Nodding, Gibbs looked at him thoughtfully.

"Can I have a hug then?" he teased gently.

He barely had time to blink before the wind was knocked out of him as Tim wrapped himself around his torso.

Chuckling slightly, he draped his arms around him and held him tight, resting his head on top of the kids head.

"Proud of you Tim" he murmured gently, and could practically feel the beaming smile the kid was wearing as he nuzzled into his chest.

Breaking apart, he was relieved when the young man looked much, much happier and grinned a true grin at him.

He was also suspicious.

"What?" he asked, whilst pretending to glare.

"Well…" Tim started, looking up beseechingly, which only intensified the elder man's suspicious. "It's just…there's this jet pack documentary I was really dying to see, and I was just wondering…"

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs smiled down at his youngest boy.

"Fine, fine" he gave in, "go and put it on and I'll fix you a snack."

Beaming, Tim darted back towards the sofa and was about to throw himself down on, before pausing.

With as much dignity as he could muster, he methodically darted around the various seats in the room, collecting all the cushions from them, and placing them on his seat, before gingerly laying himself down on them.

He managed a very un-Tim like glare, as Gibbs burst into laughter in response.

Holding up his hands in apology, the elder man, still chuckling made his way into the kitchen in search of the kid's favourite ice cream.

Moment passed as he dug around in the freezer, before he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Sensing that Tim was already too engrossed in whatever hell he was about to be subjected to, Gibbs made his way to answer the disturbance.

Opening the door, he smiled a very rare full on Gibbs smile.

Clutching bags of what he assumed was copious amounts of junk food and all wearing identical looks of hopefulness, stood Tony, Ziva and Abby.

"Guys" Gibbs greeted amiably enough, glancing back to see Tim peering out at the door over the back of the sofa, also wearing a look of hope.

As usual, Tony took the lead.

"Look boss, I know that Tim's grounded and all, but we were just wondering if-"

Holding up his hand in interruption, Gibbs smiled at his eldest boy and his two girls.

"Aw hell DiNozzo. Come in. You know the grounding drill, I say no friends, I never say no _family."_

….

TBC

….

A/N: Please let me know what you guys think and if you have any suggestions! I'm pretty much using this story to avoid studying for exam's, so really, you'd be doing me a favour!

Hope you all enjoyed!


	7. Three of Four

Tim squirmed in his usual spot on the sofa, his ears catching the faint strains of Gibbs finishing up the clearing off of the dining room table after dinner. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he dropped his head down on them and let out a very gentle groan.

The first spanking had been bad, the second one had been worse, and as he was staring down the barrel of his third conversation with their less than conventional boss, he didn't think his backside could take anymore.

He had already suffered through a long day at the office, his desk chair where he remained for most of the day, having little sympathy for his throbbing backside.

He _had_ been pleasantly surprised at Tony's…conscientious behaviour towards him. Usually the elder agent would revel in the fact that not only was _he_ not the one in trouble for a change, but McPerfect as he liked to refer to him, was the one in the hot seat.

Sighing, he reminded himself that he deserved everything he was getting and that he was lucky to still have his job, never mind no official sanctions whatsoever.

Still though, as he shifted uncomfortably due to the pangs from last night's whipping, he couldn't help but whimper at the thoughts of the thick leather careering across his tender regions once again.

His inner whimpering was suddenly cut short, as Gibbs suddenly strode into the living room. Tim once again marvelled at how… _different_ his boss was when he was at home. The trademark jeans and hoodies made him seem somehow less…Gibbs-ish. The younger man had found that he could share in an easy comrardary with the elder man outside of work…well, when he wasn't laying into him that was.

He watched silently as Gibbs perched in the usual lecturing armchair and looked over at him sternly.

He again wondered how the man could switch from being laid back and well…downright funny, straight back into the annoyed, stern and resolved boss they all knew and…well, loved, most of the time…

"How you doing kid?"

The gentle tone, accompanied by the stern glare, was so contrasting that Tim remained in surprised silence for a moment, before finding his voice.

"I'm…ok I guess" he murmured quietly, knowing that Gibbs would hardly believe any expression of extreme happiness given the circumstances.

Nodding thoughtfully, the older agent ran his trademark gaze over the obviously pensive boy for a moment.

"You get why I'm being so hard on you, right Tim?"

Looking up and relaxing somewhat at the obvious affection evident in the usually steely blue eyes, McGee felt his head bobbing up and down in response.

"Because I was an absolute idiot?" he grinned.

Snorting somewhat at the levity, Gibbs nodded.

"Well yeah son, in a nutshell. But it was your _behaviour_ that was idiotic, not you, got that?"

"Yes boss" McGee replied quietly, feeling ridiculously relieved that Gibbs still thought of him the same way he always did.

Silence ensued for a moment as the team leader ran his gaze once more over his youngest boy.

"What are we dealing with tonight, Tim?" he eventually asked, breaking the surprisingly comfortable silence.

McGee gulped somewhat as he recalled the cardinal rule he had broken in his fit of petulant rage.

He noticed immediately that the stance of the elder man across from him had subtly shifted into "boss mode", and he chose his words accordingly.

"Uhh…we're uhm, dealing…we're dealing with the fact that I deliberately shut off my phone so I couldn't be contacted or…found."

As the words left his mouth, he cringed with embarrassment at his stupid actions.

He should have known Gibbs would find him, even if that damn bar had been on the moon, he would have found him.

He was _Gibbs_ for crying out loud.

"And why is that selfish, reckless and irresponsible behaviour not tolerated on my team, Tim?"

Squirming instantly as the hard truths hit home, McGee looked up sadly.

"Because…we always need to be able to be contacted, anything could have happened on a case or to the team…and I wouldn't have known" he murmured miserably, feeling another stab of intense regret.

Gibbs let out a sigh and leant back in the chair with a nod.

"We've been over this before, haven't we?" he asked sternly, recalling an incident where both Tony and Tim had decided that they wanted to go out for a peaceful night and had turned their cells on silent.

He hadn't had to repeat the lesson he had imparted on the two with DiNozzo, and he was more than surprised that McGee would be the first one up for some…reminding.

Clearly remembering the same scenario that was playing through his boss' mind, McGee flushed and gave a reluctant nod.

"Yes boss" he replied, his tentative voice laden with an obvious guilt.

The team leader surveyed the young man for a moment and recalled with horrible clarity the nauseating…the almost suffocating feeling of worry he had experienced when he couldn't find the kid.

"Do you have _any_ idea how worried I was Timothy?" he asked, in a deathly quiet and calm tone that somehow made the listening McGee's pulse race.

That, and the fact that his boss had reverted to the full use of his first name, which never boded well.

Just ask very Special Agent _Anthony_ DiNozzo.

Gulping down air like a recently rescued drowning victim, Tim forced himself to look his Gibbs in the eye.

"No boss…I didn't think…I just…didn't….I'm so sorry."

The elder man nodded in acceptance of the obviously sincere speech and had to bite back a smile as to how earnest the kid looked.

The younger man rarely screwed up so spectacularly, but when he did, he felt it much more acutely than the rest of them.

"I need to know where you are, in the field, at _all_ times. You, Tony, Ziva and Abby are _my_ responsibility. You _never_ go out of contact, for any reason. You know that, you knew that when you did it, and you did it anyway. That isn't, and never will be, acceptable behaviour. Is that clear?"

The glum and guilt ridden nodding of the tousled sandy brown head let him know that it was, in fact, clear.

Feeling the familiar catch in his throat when he contemplated what could happen to any of his four when they went out of bounds, Gibbs fixed a ferociously stern glare on the young man in front of him.

"Don't you _ever_ do that to me again, do you understand?"

Hearing the undercurrent of emotion in their usually stoic boss' voice, guilt frothed and bubbled inside Tim's stomach, as he nodded his head in fervent agreement.

"I won't boss, I swear" he promised quietly, resolving to never break it.

Another searching gaze washed over him, before Gibbs gave a short nod in acceptance.

"Ok then. Let's get this taken care of."

The elder man stood and watched as the younger one mirrored his actions, albeit with a much slower gate.

He bit back the instinctual impatient bark to move it.

This wasn't the office, this was home, and he needed to remember that.

He waited patiently for the young man to clamber fully to his feet, and then gently laid a hand on each of his shoulder, and led him towards the end of the couch, and the now dreaded arm rest.

Stepping back, he braced himself to do the very _last_ thing he wanted to do, for the third night in a row.

"Ok Tim, pants down and get yourself into position."

It seemed as though the younger man was going to comply with the clear instructions, before he baulked and turned beseechingly pleading eyes on the elder agent.

"Please boss" he wheedled, in the moment reminding Gibbs forcibly of Tony, "please can't I just keep them up for this one? I'm still sore from last night…come on boss, please?"

Sighing, and wishing he could say yes, a wearied Jethro felt his head shaking firmly in the negative.

"Pants down, now" he repeated firmly, "you brought this on yourself son."

Tim groaned and began to fumble aimlessly with the clasp of his jeans, whilst Gibbs looked on silently.

When it became clear that the kid was getting nowhere and was blatantly stalling, _again_ reminding him of how alike both his eldest and youngest boys were becoming, Gibbs intervened.

"Ok" he said, stepping forwards towards McGee "hands behind your back, now."

Something about the tone being used instantly activated Tim's instinct of following orders.

Intertwining his hands behind his back as instructed, he bit back an embarrassed groan as Gibbs quickly reached forward, and deftly undid and tugged his jeans down to his knees. He had to fight to continue withholding that groan, as his boss gently turned him around and placed him over the armrest, before pulling his boxers down to meet his jeans.

 _Great, now he probably thinks I'm a moron as well as a screw up_ he thought to himself miserably, as he distinctly heard the all too familiar sounds of Gibbs unbuckling his belt, and pulling the thick strap through his jeans loops.

The warm hand that came down on the small of his back instantly calmed him down a little.

He knew the older man would never give him more than he deserved, or more than he could take.

That reassurance quickly faded into nothingness when the first lick fell with a resounding force and an equally resounding crack.

Tim didn't even try to hold back the loud yelp that escaped him as the heavy leather reignited the barely spent fire that had raged across his bare backside just twenty four hours previously.

Gibbs for his part, winced as the sounds of distress instantly wafted up to his years from the tangle of arms that currently housed his youngest boy's head.

He knew from personal experience…that a strapping straight after a previous strapping, was no laughing matter and it was with great reluctance that he drew back his hand to deliver the second searing swat.

Resolving to dish out McGee's third punishment as thoroughly, but as quickly as possible, he quickly settled into a steady rhythm. Bringing the thick leather down expertly, he saw that the already pink skin quickly bloomed into scarlet with every passing lick.

Gritting his teeth in distaste, he focussed the belts bite on the tender sit spots of the now openly sobbing Tim, and resolutely began to light the well deserved fire there.

As the squirming boy cried intensely, Gibbs inwardly groaned as he tightened his hold on the wriggling agent, and continued to dish out lick after lick.

The strapping was quickly having its desired effect, and Tim's torso soon drooped over the arm rest, his loud sobbing having transitioned into a broken weeping, that tore at the elder man's heart.

Bringing the punishment to its merciful close with great relief, Gibbs landed one more series of stinging swats to the crimson backside, before dropping the belt from his hand as if it were burning him.

Instantly crouching down beside his weeping agent, he immediately began to run his customary hand through the short hair, murmuring softly into the kid's ear as he did so. The familiar pain began to shoot through his legs in protest at the uncomfortable position, but he remained firmly put, continuing to speak softly to his youngest boy, praising him for his acceptance of his punishment.

Team leader and junior agent stayed in that position for quite a long time, before Tim's weeping petered out into a series of sniffles and snuffles. Gibbs knew that this was a precursor to the boy raising himself from the arm rest, and tactfully stood and made a great chore of looping his belt back through his jeans.

For two reasons.

One, to give his Tim the usual space to right his clothing. Gibbs had no interest in humiliating the kid.

Two, he didn't want the younger man to see his belt as anything other than another article of clothing when he eventually completely righted himself.

It was just as he firmly buckled the belt back into position, that the low hiss from behind him let him know that the jeans had been replaced over a presumably throbbing posterior.

As he turned to face his agent, opening his mouth to provide some more comfort, he gasped as all the wind he possessed was suddenly and unceremoniously taken out of him.

Wincing in pain, he glanced down in surprise to see what had caused his drastic change in oxygen levels.

What he saw soon drove the pain from his mind, as he chuckled and drew the young man wrapped around his torso into his arms.

The muffled "m'sorry boss" that was spoken into his chest was barely audible, but the team leader's trained ears caught them anyway.

Reaching up, he very, very gently rapped the boy upside the head.

"Nothing to be sorry for now Tim, all taken care of and forgotten" he instructed gently, but firmly.

When they broke apart, Gibbs took in the red eyed quality of his youngest boy, but found _his_ usual onset of guilt tempered by the complete absence of guilt in Tim's eyes.

Maybe, just maybe…he was getting somewhere with this kid.

"You ok son?" he asked gently, resting a warm hand on McGee's shoulder.

The sandy brown head bobbed up and down once more.

"I'm ok. Sitting is overrated anyway" Tim answered with a ghost of a grin.

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, before bursting into laughter.

This light hearted banter coming from his junior agent, was something he associated more with DiNozzo after having his backside warmed.

He found himself ridiculously happy that the kid seemed to be getting better at bouncing back, and letting his slip ups go.

Ruffling his hair and returning the grin, he chuckled.

"Really? How about we put that theory to the test then?" he teased.

McGee's face fell comically.

"What are you going to do to me _now"_ he whined, with a matching scowl.

Still chuckling, Gibbs held up his hands innocently.

"What am _I_ going to do to _you?"_ he asked in feigned affront, "I think it's the other way around son."

Tim merely stared at him in obvious confusion.

Grinning, Gibbs gently steered him back towards his usual spot on the sofa, throwing a soft cushion on the seat before gently depositing the kid down on it.

McGee let out a pained hiss at the slight contact, and stared at his boss with a look of pointed hurt.

Rolling his eyes in response, the team leader turned and rummaged around his gear bag that had been forgotten about earlier in the evening.

Finding what he was looking for, he gently tossed the DVD case to a startled Tim.

Silence descended in the Gibbs household for a moment, as the young man gawped wordlessly at the plastic case in his hand.

"But…but… _how…_ did you… _where_ did you…" he spluttered in amazement, looking agape at the crookedly smiling Gibbs.

Shrugging sheepishly, the elder man again felt his heart lift at how _happy_ the kid looked.

"I know a guy who owns a studio. He owes me a favour" he explained simply.

"But….you _hate_ sci-fi" Tim marvelled, still staring at the DVD as if it might combust.

Shrugging once more, Gibbs remained silent and merely smiled benignly down at his youngest boy.

That was until said boy leapt off the sofa, somehow ignoring the answering stab of pain from his rear end, and once again threw himself into the elder agent's arms.

"You're the best" he all but squeaked into his chest, as Gibbs squeezed his shoulders gently once more and laughed.

"Can I put it on now? Like right now?" McGee squealed as he released a slightly breathless Jethro.

Nodding once more, Gibbs grinned as the younger man flew to the TV and began pressing this and that.

He was about to head into the kitchen to fix something for Tim to eat, when a voice rang out preventing him.

"Boss…?"

"Yeah, Tim?"

McGee looked up at him uncertainly as he crouched beside the TV set.

"Why…? he asked, gesturing with the case still clutched in his hand, "I thought I was in trouble?"

Gibbs sighed, as he pondered the question.

Deciding to go with the honest truth, he looked down at Tim fondly.

"You are son, you are. But…aw hell Tim, believe it or not….I like to see you four _happy_ …even if the second 'b' _is_ for bastard."

….

TBC

…

A/N: So, I've had a few requests to incorporate a slash pairing between Gibbs and one of the four. Whilst I have no problem with slash in general, I've never written it before, it's not really my thing. Also, this show is just too familial in nature to me for that to work…so apologies, but I'm afraid it's a no can do situation for me!

Once I get through with Tim's storyline, I'll incorporate the rest of the team as well!

Thanks for reading guys and please let me know what you think!


	8. Four of Four

"Relax Tony, come on, breathe for me."

Tim's anxious face seemed to swoon in and out of focus as Tony struggled not to hyperventilate.

He vaguely registered two firm hands landing on his shoulders and giving him a gentle shake. As he blinked, his mind stumbled over the fact that Gibbs was wearing an anxious look similar to Tim's, as both agents stared down at him in confusion.

"What the hell happened here McGee?"

The completely nonplussed look on his junior agent's face let him know that Tony's reaction wasn't the result of some kind of prank that a tech savvy Tim had raged.

Sighing, he turned his attention back towards his senior agent; Gibbs was relieved to see that the kid's breathing was regaining some semblance of normality.

Crouching down in front of him, he studied him closely.

"What's going on Tony?" he asked gently, quietly.

A deep, dramatic breath was inhaled as the younger man composed himself.

"I was supposed to do a photo shoot for NCIS's annual charity calendar but the…the _devil incarnate_ just emailed me and told me that….that I wasn't _handsome_ enough and that I was too _old"_ he gasped out in horror, turning huge morose eyes on a now gaping Gibbs.

Tim bit down on his lip hard and forced the bout of laughter he felt coming to the surface, down.

Ziva, who had arrived just in time to accurately gauge the situation, and hear Tony's explanation, stuffed her donut she was clutching straight into her mouth to stem _her_ laugher.

A brief silence ensued before the tell tale crack of a heated Gibbs slap filled the room, with an accompanying yelp.

McGee and Ziva looked on grinning as Gibbs set about tearing Tony a new one for wasting time on photo shoots instead of running down the leads he'd been given.

They quickly threw their own eyes down on their work when the irate leader finished up with a sulking DiNozzo, and stormed back to his own desk.

Each rolled their eyes at the predictable message that pinged up on their screens a millisecond later.

The "can you _believe_ him? This is literally the worst day of my life, and all he can do is give me a concussion?" was answered with two sets of eye rolls and soon calm descended once more over the squad room as all four worked diligently.

Tim, for his part, worked hard to stay firmly put in his chair.

It was proving more and more difficult however, and as time pressed on he didn't know how much longer he could squirm surreptitiously for.

Little did he know, that what he considered to be discreet squirming had been instantly noticed by a silently observing Gibbs.

Watching the young agent in such obvious discomfort pulled on his heartstrings.

Realising that he was getting completely soft in his old age, he fabricated a reason for a lab visit and barked at McGee to get down and see Abby.

He bit back a chuckle as Tim practically leapt up from his chair in gratitude, and hightailed it down to Abby's lab.

Where he could both stand, and be blanketed in sympathy.

Turning back to his own screen, he sighed as he thought of the impending evening.

Whilst the punishments he'd dished out to the younger man so far had been thorough, they weren't on par with the paddling the kid was about to get.

He'd deliberately chosen to deal with by far the worst offence, last, so that hopefully McGee would never need to be taught the lesson he was trying to teach, ever again.

He gritted his teeth in distaste as he remembered how much Tim hated the paddle.

Whilst his belt was certainly no joke, the paddle left a dull throb for days afterwards and he had every intention, however reluctant, of putting that paddle to good use this evening.

Hours slipped by, and glancing at the clock Gibbs decided that with no pressing or promising leads, that he could legitimately call an end to the day.

Looking up, he smiled as all three were engrossed to the point that at first they didn't even hear him ordering them to wrap it up.

Raising his voice the second time, he chuckled to himself with both Ziva and Tony scampered to their feet and started throwing their things together.

He sobered when he saw how much slower McGee was to comply.

He could easily understand why the kid was in no rush to go home.

Sighing, he forced himself to his feet.

He wasn't in all that much of a rush either.

Bidding DiNozzo and Ziva tonight, he waited patiently for Tim to get all of his things together.

Soon, when McGee realised he could stall no more and reluctantly dragged his feet in the right direction, both agents were making their way out of the Navy Yard.

The kid had passed on the idea of takeout, and had readily agreed to traditional Gibbs steak instead.

About half an hour later, and Gibbs pushed open the front door, holding it open for a loitering McGee.

Throwing both their gear bags in their usual spots, the elder man headed towards the kitchen calling "do you want fries or potatoes?" over his shoulder.

When the younger man didn't answer, and merely stood rooted to a spot in the entrance hall, Gibbs stopped in his tracks and turned around.

"Tim? Didn't you hear me? Do you want fries or-"

"Boss please" McGee interrupted in a quiet voice, looking down at the floor and fidgeting.

Gibbs blinked.

"Please what? If you don't want anything on the side you don't have to."

Shaking his head in frustration, Tim felt a hot flush creep across his cheeks.

"Tim?"

The genuine confusion and concern that oozed from just his name, jolted the junior agent into action.

"Can't…can't you just spank me now?" he blurted out, feeling the flush intensify with every word.

Gibbs blinked once again.

Then he blinked some more.

Realising that the kid had probably worked himself up into a state over the last few hours, he recovered quickly.

"You want me to spank you right now?" he asked gently, understanding the urge to just get it over with.

He'd been in McGee's shoes with Mike Franks often enough to know that waiting for a whipping, was nearly as bad as getting a whipping.

Blushing some more, the sandy brown head bobbed up and down in front of him.

"I just want it to be all over with now…please boss" the now miserable looking boy all but whispered, looking up at Gibbs beseechingly.

Nodding thoughtfully, the elder man pondered for a moment.

He liked to make sure that the kid ate after a long day at work, but forcing him to sit through a meal when he was so obviously miserable, was definitely not a good idea.

Snapping to a decision, he felt himself nodding.

"Ok Tim, into the living room then" he instructed "I'll be right through, go on now."

Nodding, but paling, the younger agent obediently strode off towards the now familiar lecturing spot he has grown accustomed to.

Throwing himself down in his usual space, he drew his knees up to his chin, and tried to remind himself that getting it over and done with as quickly as possible was best all round. As he dropped his head down on his knees, he forced himself to admit that he had no one but himself to blame for the situation he was in. Letting out a small whimper as he felt another twinge from his well strapped backside, he tried to comfort himself in the knowledge that this whole fiasco was nearly over and done with.

By the time he was finished having a stern chat with himself, he was almost calmed.

Almost.

Within a millisecond however, all that _almost calm_ , went flying straight out the nearest window.

As Gibbs strode to his usual armchair, with the paddle he had retrieved clutched firmly in his hand, he groaned inwardly at the wide eyed horrified expression that was staring back at him.

Throwing himself down in the chair, he let the thick paddle lay on the floor beside him, as he ran appraising eyes over an apparently speechless McGee.

Sighing, he opened his mouth.

"You must have known that tonight would be bad, Tim" he said quietly, all the while wishing he could use the damn paddle as firewood.

Gulping down air rapidly, the young man turned tortured eyes towards him.

"I…uhh, well yeah I guess…I mean, I know I was….it's just… _please_ boss?"

Shaking his head firmly, Gibbs forced himself to think of what was best for the kid.

"No Tim. I know how much you and Tony hate the paddle, trust me, I hate using it. But I need this to be a lesson you won't forget, and if the paddle is what it takes, then that's what it takes."

Letting out a soft groan, the MIT grad put his expressive eyes to good use as he pulled out his best puppy dog impression.

"Boss…please, your belt…uhh, is uhm… a great teacher…honestly, I've learned _loads_."

Forcing himself not to laugh at the oddness and sincerity of the kid's words, Gibbs once again shook his head.

"I told you before, I decide what your punishment is Tim. You don't want to be punished? Then think before you act, it's as simple as that. Now, I've made up my mind and it's not changing so no more arguing about it, you don't want to make things worse for yourself."

Tim bit back the obvious "how can it get any worse?" he longed to say, and settled instead for gazing in misery at the wooden instrument of doom that lay almost serenely at his boss' feet.

Drawing a deep breath, Gibbs used the kid's silence to launch into the inevitable lecture.

"Why are you about to get your butt tanned, Tim?"

The question was simple, and firm, and it instantly brought about an immediate answer in the younger man.

Albeit a stammering and stuttering one, accompanied by vast amounts of copious fidgeting.

"Because…I" Tim flushed as he recalled his moronic actions "because…I put myself in danger, on purpose."

Nodding, Gibbs arched an eyebrow.

A clear indication to continue.

Groaning to himself, McGee reluctantly opened his mouth again.

"I put myself in danger by uhh…getting wasted with people I didn't know and erm…by…uhh, taking …dr..drugs from them."

Gibbs nodded once more, but it didn't take a skilled investigator to see the subtle changes McGee's words brought about.

The eye's flashed.

The posture tensed, and the jaw tightened.

"Was that the action of a trained federal agent, and an MIT and John Hopkins graduate or was that the action of an agent under _my_ command acting like a thoughtless brat?"

Tim winced, but to Gibbs' pride, looked him straight in the eye as he answered.

"The latter, boss" he murmured miserably, but clearly.

The elder man nodded, and once again felt his throat tighten as he thought about what could have happened had he not arrived in time.

"I want you to promise me, and I do mean _promise_ me, that you will _never_ do anything like this again."

Tim felt his internal organs positively vibrate with guilt as he heard the tortured quality of his boss' voice.

"I promise, I will never do anything like this again" he responded immediately, and hoped fervently that the elder man could hear the sincerity he felt.

He did.

Feeling relief flood through him, he forced himself to remember that the kid's actions had been way out of character, and that he'd been upset at the time.

Fixing a pale McGee with a stern glare, he opened his mouth once more.

"Tim, if anything ever makes you as upset as you were that you would consider doing something so _stupid_ again, you had better come straight to me. I mean _straight_ to me. I'm warning you right now, if I find out that you've gone off in the deep end about something I could have helped you with because you didn't come to me, I will quite literally spank you into next year. Do you understand me?"

Gulping and nodding fervently, Tim McGee made it very clear that he understood.

Nodding again, Gibbs steeled himself.

He rarely said the words he was about to say to any of his people, and he didn't say them lightly.

"I'm very disappointed in you."

Predictably, the sandy brown head nosedived towards the floor as Tim stared at it miserably.

Having Gibbs be furious with him was one thing, having him being disappointed in him, was quite another.

"I know boss" he murmured quietly, "I'm so sorry."

The elder agent took in the stricken face of his youngest boy, and sighed.

Standing, he quickly rounded the coffee table that separated them, and perched on it.

Reaching out, he gently cupped Tim's chin in his hand, and tilted his head upwards.

"I'm disappointed in you, because I know how much better you are than this. I know you're a damn good kid, and I know you'll never do this again. So no matter how angry I can be with you, or how occasionally, and I do mean _occasionally_ disappointed I can be in you, I'm always proud of you. You understand me?"

Gawping at the unusual burst of speech from the man in front of him, Tim vaguely registered his head moving up and down.

"Good, now…let's get this taken care of, and then we never need to speak of it again, ok?"

With the younger man's tentative nod, Gibbs stood once more and strode round the table to retrieve the much detested paddle.

Turning around, he saw the McGee hadn't moved.

Groaning inwardly at how much he loathed what he was about to do, Gibbs crossed over to him.

Placing the paddle down on the couch, he put a gentle hand on each of the kid's shoulders.

"I'm not going to drag you Tim, you've got to do this for yourself. Come on now, up you get."

Reluctantly, the younger man dragged himself to his feet and walked slowly to the end of the sofa.

Eying the arm rest with an acquired loathing, he let out a groan, before turning pleading eyes on his boss.

Feeling a staggering déjà vu, Gibbs shook his head sternly.

"You know the drill by now, get them down."

Biting his lip in misery, Tim obediently fumbled with his jeans.

Within a few moments, he was once again draped over the arm rest, with his pants and boxers pooled at his knees.

As the warm hand came down on his back, he willed himself to remain calm.

He could take this, he had done before, and then, at last, this whole sorry saga would be over.

The first lick came without further adieu, and all thoughts of brave acceptance flew from Tim's mind, as he let out a strangled yelp. Bucking under his boss' hand, he wasn't surprised when he was easily kept in place and yelped even louder when the second swat landed.

Tears immediately sprang to his eyes.

The paddle was his most detested implement, but he'd always been able to get through the first couple of swats without his eyes watering.

This time, the two licks on top of an already well spanked and strapped backside, proved just too much and the young man didn't even try to hold back his whimper or to restrain his tears as the third resounding thwack rained down.

This was going to be hell.

Gibbs gritted his teeth and drew in a great lungful of air as he drew his arm back for the fourth time.

He had known that this paddling was going to be bad, but the anguished yelping escaping his youngest boy wasn't far off from bringing tears to his own eyes.

He pushed thoughts that he was being too hard on the kid from his mind as he recalled how much danger he had been in, and what could have happened to him.

Laying down the fifth lick, he grimaced as McGee began to openly sob.

Running experienced eyes over the now dusty pink backside, he knew the week's punishment wouldn't be anything the boy wouldn't get over, but still, as he drew his arm back once again, he wished he could throw the paddle straight out the window and the pull the kid into his arms.

Grinding his teeth, he settled into his seasoned rhythm, and the only sounds that could be heard in the room were cracks of the paddle and answering yelping and sobbing.

As he gently tipped Tim forwards to bring the paddle down across his sit spots, he had to draw on every inch of his military training to hold onto his resolve.

He wasn't surprised when the first thwack across the tender area broke the open sobbing into a muffled weeping.

He was further unsurprised when the second lick caused the boy's torso to go limp.

Noting with resounding gratitude that the punishment was nearly over, Gibbs landed a few more well placed swats to the soft area, before turning his attention once more to the now scarlet backside.

Dishing out a few more swats, he brought the paddle down for the last time with an unnerving accuracy and unceremoniously threw it out of his hand.

Throwing himself down into his usual crouched position, he laid a gentle hand onto of the weeping Tim's head, and spoke softly into his ear. He could tell that it would take quite a while for the young man to compose himself, and he readily settled in for the long haul.

The two stayed in their stationary positions for the longest time, before Gibbs had to concede that the usual petering out of the weeping wasn't happening.

Groaning to himself, he quickly reassured McGee that he would be right back.

Darting out of the living room and hightailing it up the stairs, the elder man quickly barrelled into Tim and Tony's room and rooted out the softest pair of sweats he could find, and a loose fitting t-shit.

Dashing back downstairs, he saw that Tim was exactly where he had left him.

He needed to hold the kid to calm him down, but he knew that the young man would be mortified to be embraced in a state of half undress.

Gently placing a hand on each shoulder, he carefully cajoled the young man up from his perch.

"Come on Tim, up you get and get these on you. They're softer, come on now son, up you get" he murmured gently, and was intensely relieved when the younger agent took the clothes he proffered quickly.

Turning away to let him get dressed in privacy, he waited patiently for the little hiss that would indicate the soft clothing had been put on.

When it came, he turned around to see a much younger looking McGee, dressed in what he realised were Tony's clothes.

The crying had stopped.

But just for a moment.

Just as he was about to open his mouth, the crying started up again as Tim launched himself at him.

Clutching him and crying into his chest, the young agent clung to him with a surprising strength.

Gibbs for his part, instantly wrapped his arms around the kid and held him tightly to him.

"Calm down now Timmy….shh, shh now it's ok, it's all over son" he soothed, talking into the kids head of hair as he continued to cry into his chest.

It seemed like the gentle voice and the rare use of his nickname got through to the weeping McGee, as his throaty crying began to transition into gentle sniffling and snuffling instead.

Time passed, and the elder man continued to hold Tim tightly to him, making no effort to break away from the embrace.

He knew the kid would, when he was ready.

Sure enough, a few moments later, McGee sniffed his last sniff and wriggled out of the strong arms around him.

Before Gibbs could open his mouth, Tim had fixed him with an unusually serious stare and opened his own.

"I swear… it'll _never_ happen again boss."

Smiling his crooked smile, Gibbs nodded and reaching out, he affectionately tousled the kids hair.

"I know son. It's all taken care of now, and it never needs to be mentioned again. You took your punishment extremely well, and I'm proud of you. Now, how about you go upstairs and wash your face, and I'll get some dinner going? You must be starving by now."

Nodding, Tim carefully turned himself around and grabbed his discarded jeans and shirt.

Feeling the cell in his pocket, he sighed, as he fished it out.

Turning back to the team leader, he dutifully held it out.

"Sorry boss, I forgot to give it to you before" he said sheepishly, trying valiantly to ignore the WoW notification that was flashing across the screen.

This whole no technology thing sucked.

Looking down at his youngest boy, Gibbs made up his mind.

No point being the boss if you couldn't break your own rules now and again.

"Aw keep it Tim, I think I've made my point son."

Beaming suddenly, in contrast to his red eyes, McGee looked up in surprise.

"Seriously?"

Gibbs grinned.

"Seriously."

Tim instantly opened the flashing notification and excitedly began replying to all his unanswered emails, whilst the team leader rolled his eyes and set to work on the dinner, having carefully removed the paddle from McGee's line of vision.

"Boss?"

A weary Leroy instantly recognised the hesitant tone, and turned immediately.

"Yeah, Tim?"

Shuffling slightly having been stricken by a sudden thought, the younger man pondered for a moment.

"Did you mean what you said….about….uhm, hating using the paddle?"

Gibbs looked at the kid curiously, as he nodded his head.

"Yeah, I did. I do" he answered honestly.

The confused look that came his way merely added to his own.

"Then…why? If you hate using it, and I _definitely_ hate you using it, then why _do_ you use it?"

Gibbs sighed as he pondered this, chewing over his words for a moment.

"Because Tim…sometimes it's better for you to hate me for a little while, because I'm doing what's best for you, than for you to like me, because I'm doing what's easiest for you."

Silence descended as it was the junior agent's turn to ponder.

"Boss?"

"Yeah, Tim?"

McGee flushed somewhat, but he held the elder man's gaze.

"I've never hated you."

With that, he turned and bounded as ably as he could considering his smarting backside, up the stairs to wash up.

Leaving a crookedly smiling LJ Gibbs in his wake.

….

TBC

….

A/N: I'm torn between doing a Tony/Ziva storyline next, or a Abby/Ziva one. I have a Tim and Tony one that I want to do, but I want to bring one, if not both, of the girls in first. Let me know what you think?

As always, thanks for reading!


	9. The Club Conundrum

Looking up from his desk, Gibbs smiled a contented smile as he surveyed the bent over heads of his three agents who were deep in concentration.

His eyes lingered over Tim for a moment, who was clearly engrossed in some program or whatever he called them, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

His smile widened as he recalled how much progress he'd made with the kid over the last few months.

He'd paroled the younger man back to his own place weeks ago, and the whole bar fiasco had been put firmly behind them.

It had been about ten days ago when the junior agent turned up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, his hair sopping and his clothes in a state of saturation.

Fighting back the tears that were clearly threatening.

After dragging the kid in and insisting he take a hot shower, Gibbs had practically force fed steaming hot coco into the younger man. Several hours and hot beverages later, he had carefully extracted the cause of the clear upset from the technical genius.

This time it had been a dreadfully heated argument with his younger sister, Sarah, that had left his youngest boy teetering on the edge of a complete meltdown. He had gently talked him through the row, and had carefully steered him in the right direction to rectify the situation with his younger sibling.

He smiled wider still as he recalled how proud he'd been, how proud he _was,_ that the kid had finally taken heed of his words and had come to him when he had felt like hitting the nearest bar instead.

Clearly feeling a racking gaze on him, the present day McGee looked up from his desk and smiled his shy smile at his boss, before dropping his head straight back into his keyboard.

The day passed uneventfully, and with a brief stint in MTAC to occupy him, Gibbs left the three at it.

An hour or so later, he meandered down to the lab to check on Abby, and to refresh the lab rats Caf-Pow.

Striding into the lab to find his eldest girl stretched out on a yoga mat, arguing loudly with a mannequin dummy covered in blood, he didn't bat an eyelid.

"Hey Abb's" he greeted, wincing as the blaring _music_ assaulted his ear drums.

Bouncing up from her perch, and telling Fred the mannequin to stay where he was, the young analyst gratefully accepted the outstretched caffeine kick.

"I don't have anything for you yet Gibbs" she informed him, "Fred and I are working on it though."

Nodding and rolling his eyes, the team leader motioned for Abby to turn down the racket.

The answering pout was not unexpected.

Levelling her with what DiNozzo called the "half glare", he smiled as she huffed but did as she was told.

"Why don't you and Fred call it a night Abby, we've done all we can today."

Beaming, the pigtails bobbed up and down as she nodded happily in response.

"Awesome! Ziva and I are going to this _amazing_ twenty four hourconcert tonight, and I could use the extra time to get ready."

Narrowing his eyes immediately, Gibbs chewed his lip.

He had a serious aversion to these _concerts_ Abby took herself off to. They were filled with people he quite simply didn't consider appropriate friends for his favourite. The news that she had clearly roped a presumably reluctant Ziva into attending did nothing to assuage his well founded fears.

"Abby…" he began, in what he hoped were placating tones, "isn't there something else the two of you could do, besides these…these _raves_ you insist on going to."

The answering peal of raucous laughter caused his already firmly narrowed eyes to narrow even further.

"A _rave_ Gibbs? Really?" Abby spluttered, "you are _so_ old fashioned."

Ignoring the jibe that would have had Tony rubbing his head had it come from him, Gibbs sighed.

"I mean it Abby; I don't like you going to these places. They're dangerous, and dragging Ziva along, is that really a good idea? It's hardly her idea of a good time?"

Rolling her eyes at her favourite silver fox, Abby opened her mouth patiently.

"You worry too much. They're perfectly safe, and I have my own personal assassin with me, so what could possibly happen?"

Groaning, and realising that he couldn't exactly forbid either Abby or Ziva from going to whatever dingy dive that was hosting whatever noise she wanted to hear, he reluctantly settled for damage control.

"Alright, but I want you to promise" he said simply.

Rolling her eyes once again, the young scientist sighed.

"Abby…"

"Alright, alright. I promise."

"Abigail…"

Hissing at the use of her full name, she tried again.

"I promise to call you if I need you."

Smiling, Gibbs nodded.

It was sort of their ritual when Abby was going off to do something he wasn't all that wild about, that she would always promise to call him, night or day, if anything happened and she needed him.

"Was that so hard?"

Abby merely grinned her roguish grin at him and once again threw her eyes up to heaven.

"Well if that's _all_ Gibbs, I really do have to go. I don't just wake up looking this good you know."

The team leader rolled his eyes at the dramatics, but obediently stepped out of the excited analysts way as she flew out of the lab with a squeaked "bye Gibbs!" over her shoulder.

Making his way slowly to the elevator, the now suddenly wearied Jethro decided to have a quick word with Ziva before he sent his other three off for the weekend.

Striding back into the squad room moments later, he dismissed a delighted looking Tony and Tim, and dropped quietly down on his knees beside Ziva's desk.

Blinking as the rush of air hit him in the face from the speed of the boy's departure, he waited until they were safely ensconced in the elevator before opening his mouth.

He was beaten to the punch.

"I did not do it."

Gibbs blinked once again.

Looking up in the face of his youngest girl, he shot her a suspicious glance.

"You didn't do _what?"_

Fidgeting slightly, she smiled the smile he loved with a paternal force down at him.

"Whatever you are about to say I did" she drawled, in her lilting tones.

Letting out an exaggerated breath, Gibbs held up his hands defensively.

"Why is it that every time I want a word with one of you, you immediately assume you're in trouble?"

The perfectly arched eyebrow in his direction, forced a chuckle from him.

"I'm not that bad" he defended half heartedly, knowing he probably _was_ that bad.

"No, of course not" Ziva answered sarcastically, with another wide grin.

Shooting a feigned glare at the cheekiness, Gibbs remembered what he wanted to talk to his resident killer about.

"You're going to this….to this _place_ with Abby tonight?"

Ziva nodded slowly, knowing _exactly_ where this was going.

"I will look after her, do not worry" she assured him in admittedly confident tones.

Nodding, Gibbs arched an eyebrow at her.

He received the same expressive eye roll as his lab rat had given him, and wondered briefly since when his two girls got so comfortable with giving him cheek.

Tony and Tim wouldn't even blink too heavily in his direction.

"I promise" she said, answering the unspoken prompt.

Gibbs merely arched an eyebrow further, feeling a familiar sense of déjà vu.

"That I will call you if I need you."

Smiling, Gibbs nodded and reaching out, he ruffled her hair, chuckling at the alarming scowl he earned himself in response.

"Ok then, hop it. Have a good time, _but be safe."_

Jumping up from her desk, Ziva beamed.

"We will, have a nice weekend Gibbs."

With a peck to his cheek and a smile, she was gone, sweeping in the same direction and with the same haste as the two boys had.

Shaking his head and wishing his two could just go shopping like every other twenty and thirty something on the planet; Gibbs packed up his stuff and headed out and from the Navy Yard.

Several hours later and several tens and tens of miles away, Abby excitedly clutched a less than excited Ziva as they queued to get into the packed club.

Ziva for her part, was cursing the promise she'd made to her relatively eccentric best friend that she would accompany her tonight, making a mental note to develop more _Mossad_ like defences to the analyst's impressive wrangling skills.

However, after a while, the unwavering joy that was radiating off of Abby began to waft over her, and she too began to relax.

Hours later, and both girls were more than a little bit merry, and were dancing happily with two guys they had met at the bar.

Accepting the drinks each boy pressed into their hands, all four downed the explosively potent shots in one go.

Things began to heat up, and after a brief, drunken consultation with each other, both girls agreed to leave the club with the two guys and head to an exclusive, members only bar on the other side of town.

Had Ziva been even moderately less inebriated, she would have caught the less than friendly smiles exchanged between the two men. But as it was, she wasn't, and giggling she allowed Abby to drag her from the club and into the now deserted ally that lay outside the nightclub.

They blinked in surprise when they saw how late it was.

There were no taxis in the usual rank, there were no late night stragglers making their way home.

There wasn't even a bouncer on the club door, signalling that the last of the late night entries were now also long over.

As the cool wind hit Ziva in the face, she immediately sobered up somewhat.

Glancing to her side, she saw that Abby was also straightening up in response to rapid change in temperature.

Both looked out of their peripheral vision at the two guys accompanying them.

Outside the pressing atmosphere, blaring music and constant supply of alcohol that was the composition of the very secluded club, Ziva's training began to kick into gear and her natural talent for reading people began to signal an alert.

There was something… _off_ about these two.

Turning to Abby, she saw a similar look of realisation on her face, her face…which had taken on a slightly green tinge.

Damn.

She cursed herself inwardly, they never should have drank so much, Abby always got really sick if she did, more than your typical hangover.

Throwing a loose arm around her friend's slight shoulders, the Mossad turned NCIS agent, turned to the two guffawing guys.

"Actually, we think we're just going to head home now" she said firmly, relieved to hear that her voice carried no overly obvious signs of her alcohol intake.

"Isn't that right Abby?" she added, squeezing the scientist's shoulders in a discreet prompt.

"Uh…yeah, home time now…" she managed to get out, finding vocalising her thoughts to be a relatively difficult task.

The two men nudged each other, and smiled wide, knowing grins.

"Sounds good. We'll join you ladies."

Shaking her head quickly, but immediately stopping as the wave of nausea hit, Ziva gritted her teeth.

"No thank you, that will _not_ be necessary."

The smiles facing the two girls increased and Abby began to feel incredibly sick.

How had they not noticed what _creeps_ these two were?

"Come on, don't be like that now. We _are_ coming with you two, don't be a tease" the taller of the two crooned, stepping closer to Ziva, and making to throw a firm and leading arm over her shoulders.

"Step back" Ziva ordered sharply, increasing her protective hold on a now trembling Abby.

Grinning further, the inebriated man took in the petite posture of the strikingly beautiful woman, and chuckled, a deep, low and oddly menacing chuckle. His friend immediately imitated him.

The sound made both girls feel even sicker.

"Ziva…" Abby whimpered…"I want….want….Gibbs."

Increasing the pressure on her friends shoulders, the younger of the two's eyes narrowed dangerously when the shorter of their two…ill advised companions, stepped closer. The two of them were effectively blocking both girls' exit from the ally way.

"Come on sweetheart" the stockier one crooned in Abby's direction, "let's go back your place darling. I have something that will…shall we say…loosen you up."

Ziva's teeth began to grind ferociously.

"Right. That is enough, get out of our way. We are leaving. _Now."_

The combined laughing of the two inebriated men filled the completely deserted ally.

"In a minute darling" slurred Ziva's admirer, as he took one step closer to her, whilst on his immediate left, his friend took one step closer to Abby.

A brief, tense silence ensued as a now enraged Agent David placed Abby protectively behind her.

The still night air was suddenly pierced by the surprised yelping and squawking of the two men.

Stepping back moments later, Ziva looked down at the two whimpering and groaning guys at her feet in disgust.

Reaching out and grabbing Abby firmly, she propelled her forwards.

"Come on, we need to get out of here" she urged, keeping a secure hand on the still trembling Abby's shoulders.

The two hightailed it out of the ally, and onto the more lighted main, but still dingy, street, before exchanging doleful looks.

"We're miles away from either of our places" Abby stated morosely, feeling much more sober than she could have ever believed possible.

Nodding tersely, Ziva groaned when she realised that getting a taxi this far off the beat and track at this hour of the night, well _morning_ , that was willing to drive a substantial distance from a notorious night spot, were slim at best, and non-existent at worst.

Thinking rapidly for a moment, she remembered and earlier conversation.

"We…we could call Gibbs" she suggested, with uncharacteristic hesitation.

She knew that the man would not bat an eye about jumping into his car at a moment's notice to come and get them, it was just…his _response_ that caused her to pause for thought.

The squeak that immediately escaped Abby let her know she had been right to be hesitant.

"Are you _crazy_ Ziva? He would _kill_ us."

The younger girl chewed her lip and thought hard.

"Well…we did not exactly do anything _wrong_ and he did make us promise to call if we needed him…"

Another squawk escaped Abby as they continued to walk in the general, and hopelessly far, direction of home.

Hampered every step of the way by their respective footwear.

"We didn't do anything wrong?" Abby repeated incredulously.

"We got completely wasted with creeps we don't know and agreed to go god knows where with them before we recovered from our sudden bout of _stupid,_ and then we left them, after _assaulting_ them in a dingy ally, where they had us _cornered_ and were refusing to let us out _."_

Grimacing slightly, Ziva had to admit Abby had a point.

Forcing herself to be rational however, she tried again.

"Ok…yes, we were…"

"Stupid" Abby supplied helpfully.

Rolling her eyes, Ziva nodded.

"Yes, yes fine…but I really do not think Gibbs would be that mad, he would be more relieved that we were ok no? I do _not_ think however, he would be ok with the fact that we are currently walking around one of the roughest areas in DC in the middle of night…scratch that, morning!" she hissed.

Abby rolled her eyes.

"You're a _ninja_ Ziva, we're safe."

Sighing, the younger girl shook her head in frustration.

"I have been drinking Abby, I cannot process signs of danger as normal. I…I really think we should call him."

The older girl groaned and also shook her head.

"Ziva…no way, we'll never hear the end of it, he'll be worried sick every single time we want to do something. Look, it's about…" she thought as hard as she could through her inebriated shackles "an…hour or so walk back to my place, let's just walk as fast as we can…and then forget this whole night _ever_ happened, ok?"

A silence descended as both girls stopped walking, and as Ziva pondered hard.

On the one hand, the sensible part of her knew that whilst Gibbs would probably lecture them, he would _definitely_ consider this cause to receive a call. On the other, she was still relatively confident enough in her abilities to transport both her and Abby through the public and private transport devoid area, back to lab rat's apartment.

She chewed her lip, as she briefly considered calling Tony or Tim to come and get them.

That idea was quickly dismissed as she remembered that DiNozzo was at some party or other and was probably more wasted than them, and McGee was at some convention out of town.

Groaning, she came to her decision.

Holding out her right pinky finger, she smiled slightly as Abby immediately interlocked it with her own left counterpart.

"Ok. We will walk as quickly as possible. But…Gibbs must _never_ find out, deal?"

The answering smile of relief, that was already tinged with a moderate degree of guilt, closely mirrored her own internalised emotions.

"Deal."

….

TBC

….

A/N: Decided to go the Abby/Ziva route! Credit to ("None" Guest from Jan 23rd) for the concert suggestion, this is the take I came up with for it!

Toying with the idea of bringing Ziva's father into the girls storyline somewhere along the line, let me know what you think?

Thanks for reading, apologies for any mistakes, kinda lazily wrote this one!


	10. It's a Mug's Game

Gibbs' brow furrowed for the fifth time on the still early Monday morning as his third attempt at instructing Ziva seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"David!"

All three heads snapped up in response.

Both Tony and Tim shot a questioning look at each other.

Whilst Gibbs frequently interchanged between their fore and surnames, he only addressed Ziva by her second name when he was growing exasperated.

Thankfully, the tousled mass of curls was finally facing in her boss' general direction and looking alert.

Making a mental note to grab a private word with the absent minded youngest member of his team, Gibbs set about dishing out orders and retreated from the squad room in search of coffee.

"Good weekend, Ziva?" Tony smirked, "still fighting a hangover?"

The narrowed gaze shot across the bull pen only made him grin further.

"I'll that as a yes" he said smugly, "though you _might_ want to snap out of it before the boss man gets back, trust me when I tell you a Gibbs slap on top of a hangover is _not_ fun."

"I will bear that in mind" Ziva muttered quietly, wishing that a headache was the real problem.

Barrelling back into the Navy Yard, Gibbs made his way down to the lab armed with the usual caffeine bomb.

Striding into the oddly quiet lab, he was surprised to see Abby sitting, working at her desk…

No music, plus a concentrating and quiet Sciuto was never a good sign.

Depositing the drink on the desk, he dropped a quick kiss on top of the dark hair.

"Hey Abb's" he greeted, carefully scrutinising the paler than usual face with a paternal worry.

"You ok?" he added gently.

Looking up, the young scientist nodded her head quickly and smiled her wide smile.

But it didn't reach her eyes.

"Yeah Gibbs, just tired is all. I don't have anything for you right now, if you give me another couple of hours though I should be finished with all the tests I have to run and I should hopefully have some answers."

This was all said very fast, and she smiled with every word, doing a damn good job of appearing to be her usual bubbly self.

Anyone outside of the team Gibbs might have bought it, but the senior agent wasn't fooled for a moment.

Carefully weighing his options, he decided against pressing the girl.

She would shut down and retreat into herself.

He had made that mistake before, and had learned from it.

So he merely nodded thoughtfully and with another quick peck to her cheek, he swept from the lab.

Leaning his head against the cool metal of the elevator, he sighed.

Something was up with both of his girls, and he firmly resolved to get to the bottom of it.

Back in the communal team office, Ziva and Tim had left to follow down a lead leaving DiNozzo to update their team leader on the bank and cell traces they had run.

Some hours later, both returned and Gibbs was pleased with the progress they had made. He focussed his gaze on Ziva as the two gave their reports, she was now completely professional and alert…but still _off._

And was she _standing_ a little oddly?

Sighing, he barked out a few more orders to wind up the day's work and settled himself at his own desk.

As the clock eventually ticked past seven he reluctantly decided to call their efforts to a halt.

They could do no more, and he needed them on their game tomorrow.

As all three scrambled to leave, he found a reason to engage in Ziva in conversation that appeared to be about a report he had clutched in his hand.

McGee and DiNozzo darted past bickering, but sparing their teammate a sympathetic look for her holdup.

Rolling his eyes at that, Gibbs kept up the pretence of questioning his youngest about the paper until he heard the lift doors sliding shut.

Then, he threw the report down on Ziva's desk, and perched on the side of it.

"Anything you want to tell me, Ziver?"

The suddenly gentle tone, combined with the use of her affectionate nickname made the young woman's insides vibrate with guilt.

Licking her lips nervously whilst desperately trying to remain composed, she reluctantly shook her head.

"No Gibbs" she said softly, beginning to feel slightly sick.

She routinely killed men without a second thought, she had infiltrated countless underground terrorist cells and yet… _nothing_ made her feel as uneasy as lying to the man in front of her.

Arching his eyebrow, Gibbs leant back and crossed his arms across his chest.

"You sure kid?"

Gulping somewhat, Ziva forced herself to nod, the motion only adding to the already potent bubble of guilt that was busy bubbling in her gut.

Sighing to himself, Gibbs racked his gaze over his youngest.

She was lying. He knew that much for starters.

 _Why_ and about _what_ though, he was none the wiser.

Fighting to keep the disappointment off his face, he nodded slowly.

Like Abby, he knew if he pushed Ziva when she wasn't ready, she too, would clam up.

"Ok then…you know you can talk to me, if you need to, right?"

The answering tentative smile, that also didn't reach her eyes, pierced a little.

"Alright…off you go then."

He watched on silently, feeling a little hurt as his youngest scrambled to her feet and with a last parting glance, scampered off after the boys as fast as she could.

Throwing himself back behind his own desk, Gibbs groaned.

What did he have to do to get it through to these kids that he only wanted to help them?

Attacking his computer viciously, he worked on a separate lead for a while in an attempt to distract his mind from his puzzling girls.

Looking up an hour later, he figured that Abby was probably still in her lab as was her Monday ritual, and he made a split second decision to try again with his eldest girl.

Striding down to the lab, he wasn't surprised to find the electric doors wide open.

She _cleansed_ the lab on a Monday evening, which of course, required open doors.

Obviously.

About to career into the clinical room, he was stopped short when he caught the sounds of heated voices.

Very familiar voices.

Abby _and_ Ziva's voices.

Scowling and about to enter and break up whatever squabble was going on, he was again, stopped short.

"Well what do you expect me to _do_ Abby?"

"Well if you could keep it _together,_ thatwould be a great start!"

Startled by the vehemence in both girls' tones, Gibbs hesitated.

He generally would never eavesdrop on what was clearly a private conversation between his two, but something about their tones, when put together with their out of character displays earlier on, saw him loitering in the hallway, unseen by the bickering girls'.

"That is easy for _you_ to say, you do not have to work all day with him" Ziva hissed back, and Gibbs blinked in hurt.

Was _him…_ him?

Racking his brains, he didn't come up with anything that would have his resident killer mad enough at him that she wouldn't want to work with him.

Scowling at how soft he was becoming, he loitered some more.

"I know Ziva" Abby murmured back sadly, her tone considerably softer, "but we can't tell him, you know that…he'd absolutely murder us."

Closing his eyes briefly, Gibbs was now in doubt that him _was_ him.

"If we were to just come clean about it now, Abby, he would be…"

" _Homicidal_ " Abby chimed in.

"Well…yes, but we would not have to _lie_ to him anymore. I cannot continue to do it, it...it makes me feel unwell."

Silence ensued for a moment, as Gibbs leant back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Ziva…" Abby whimpered, "we _can't_ tell him, he'll be so mad…he'll go _nuts._ "

Gibbs heard the sounds of what he deduced was Ziva crossing the room and drawing his lab rat into her arms.

"Yes" she agreed slowly, "but…he will get over it, he always does...you know he will."

Despite the seriousness of the situation developing, Gibbs had to smile at that.

The smile quickly fell off of his face as his ears caught the scientists reply.

"You really think he's going to _get over_ the fact that we've been _lying_ to him all day, all because we walked home in the middle of the night, by ourselves, _drunk_ and that we….that we…were _mugged_ and _you_ were _beaten._

Outside in the hall, a now paled and clammy Gibbs slid down the wall and let out a loud groan of horror.

….

TBC

….

A/N: Credit to earthdragon for the mugging suggestion!

Please let me know what you guys think!


	11. Reverse Psychology

Somehow making it back to his desk, Gibbs threw himself down in his chair and stared straight ahead in shock.

He had managed to clamber to his feet, and dimly decided against confronting the two conspirators then and there. He was way too emotional, completely incapable of acting rationally.

So instead, he had quietly, albeit dazedly, made his way back up to the bull pen with his mind whirling with new and distinctly unpleasant information.

It all made sense now.

The weird behaviour from the two girls, the odd position Ziva had been holding herself in.

He stared unseeingly at the glaring orange walls, and continued to feel the wave of shock trickle over him.

How could they have been so _stupid?_

His throat constricted painfully as he recalled Abby's words.

 _Mugged and beaten._

Fighting down a gasp, he grimaced as his insides began to churn once more.

Whilst he had been asleep at home, his two girls had been wandering around in a drunken state, doing god knows what and god knows where.

Dropping his head into his hands, he sighed in misery.

The agent in him knew Ziva would have been able to put up a decent fight, despite her drunkenness.

He surmised that the reason his youngest had been the one to sustain injury, was because she had been protecting Abby.

The thoughts of her grappling with some lowlife whilst being drunk made him want to violently throw up.

Why hadn't they called him?

He would have come and got them, no questions asked.

They _knew_ that.

His mind was working overtime and as conclusions began to form, his jaw tightened.

The only reason they _wouldn't_ call would be because they thought they would get in trouble if they did.

Letting out another loud sigh, he shook his head.

 _How_ many times had he told them that no matter what, their safety came first?

He had told them that, time and time again, and yet… _still_ they chose to fare out on their own.

Grinding his teeth, he wasn't surprised to find that rage was now beginning to replace his immediate feelings of shock and fear.

He correctly surmised that Ziva's injuries consisted of bruised ribs, bruised, but not broken.

He had enough experience of his own being assaulted to know what way they changed a person's stance.

Therefore, whilst she was no doubt in pain, she wasn't in any serious danger of substantial injury.

His jaw tightened as he deduced correctly that whatever vermin had mugged his two girls was most likely in a substantially worse state than his resident killer.

He would get to the vermin in time.

Leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms he closed his eyes as the all too familiar feelings of hurt began to infiltrate his mind.

He was a man of few words, but he thought he had spoken sufficiently to _all_ of his four about _lying_ to him.

It was a cardinal rule, and they god damn knew it, and had decided to flaunt it regardless.

Scowling, he stared moodily up at the ceiling, his mind working overtime.

How in the hell was he going to deal with _this_ one?

Several people flitted past him, taking no notice of the angry stance or the pensive expression of the silently staring man.

A brooding LJ Gibbs was nothing unusual, and as long as they weren't in the firing line, people were generally content to let the infamous Jethro seethe if he wanted to.

An hour or so of silent thinking and scowling, the agent came to a decision.

His jaw tightened as he reaffirmed it in his mind, as he felt himself shrouded in disappointment.

His girls wanted to lie to him? Then fine, he would let them.

Standing up abruptly and swinging his jacket over his shoulder he swept angrily from the bull pen, his mind filling with plans to take his fuming frustrations out on his boat.

His boat never lied to him. His boat didn't make his blood boil.

Why have maddening kids when you can have sweet, soothing boats.

With this in mind, he was soon speeding from the Navy Yard, making a mental note to stop and pick up a very much needed six pack.

He was soon lost in a haze of sawdust, wood chippings and age matured beer.

He felt his anger begin to slip away from his tight shoulders as he sanded vigorously, and drank diligently.

By the time he was ready to call it a night, the left hand side of his vessel was considerably smoother and he was considerably calmer.

The next day dawned bright and dewy, and the team were out in the field running down a possible sighting of their suspect.

Gibbs sent McGee and DiNozzo to cover one side of the town they had trundled into, and despite himself, he had to bite back a grin at the horrified look on Ziva's face when she realised she'd be riding with him for the day.

Solo.

Slipping back behind the steering wheel of his car, having given the MCRT van to the boys, he smoothly kicked the engine into gear.

The car meandered on for a while, before the elder agent opened his mouth.

"You and Abby have a good weekend?" he asked conversationally, keeping his tone completely level and not taking his eyes off the road, but watching the girl beside him closely in his peripheral vision.

The instantaneous squirming would have made him chuckle on a normal occasion, but he schooled his features into neutrality and waited patiently for an answer.

An answer, he conceded that required a law degree to answer without flatly lying.

"Uhh…uhm, yes…we did…thank you."

No law degree for his youngest then.

Nodding thoughtfully as if this information was fascinating, he continued to keep his gaze on the road.

"That's good. You think you'll head back there again?"

The squirming intensified immediately as the tousled curls that hid the kid's face turned towards the window, as if she had suddenly realised she had never seen trees before.

"Uhh…well I…uhm…maybe I guess" she spluttered, racking her brains for a change in conversation, whilst trying valiantly to suppress the red hot flush that was appearing across her cheeks.

Gibbs tightened his grip on the steering wheel slightly in response, and fought to remain outwardly neutral.

Changing tack as he changed gears, he carefully opened his mouth once more.

"I hope we find this guy soon. You know, it's a shame. If he had just confessed in the first place, none of this would be happening. I can't understand why he didn't just ring his father for help when he realised what he'd done, it never would have gotten this far then. He just mustn't trust him I guess."

The tiny non committal squeak that emitted from the other side of the car was as close as he got to a response.

That _did_ make his lips quirk upwards somewhat.

He had received this kind of guilt tripping treatment from Mike once, and knew how awful it made the recipient feel.

He comforted himself in the knowledge that whilst he was being pretty hard on the kid, _he_ had never lied to Mike again after he had broken and confessed.

Ziva, for her part, was finding the car suddenly very claustrophobic.

Why was there no _air_ in here?

Feeling hot around the collar, she gazed miserably out of the window.

She should just tell him, right now, she should just tell him.

She got as far as opening her mouth to do just that when a flashing image of a morose looking Abby careered across her inner mind.

Telling Gibbs the truth would mean bringing the scientist down with her.

Gulping, she closed her mouth, and resumed her staunch appraisal of the passing shrubbery.

The elder agent had seen the tentative opening of the mouth, and had guessed the younger agent was about to come clean.

Seeing it clamp shut once more, he inwardly groaned in frustration.

So close.

His cell binged interrupting his chain of thoughts, and listening to the quickened voice of McGee on the other end, all thoughts of his girls' subterfuge was swept from his mind as the case took priority.

One car chase, foot chase and several tackles later saw the suspect in the back of the MCRT van, with Gibbs and Ziva trailing behind on the way back to the Navy Yard.

Upon reaching base, the young woman sprang from the oppressive car with relief and darted after the two boys as they hauled the young detainee into the federal building.

Gibbs looked at her retreating back and sighed.

Why did she have to be as stubborn as he was?

Trudging into the building, he issued the general orders that always followed the wrapping up of a case, and soon all three field agents were immersed in vast quantities of paperwork.

Coming to a forensics snag on his report, Gibbs sighed.

Time to visit the lab rat.

Twenty minutes later, and _not_ armed with the usual Caf-Pow, the team leader strode into the still silent lab.

Placing the report on the desk in front of his eldest girl to get her attention, he wasn't surprised when she jumped in shock.

"Uh…hey Gibbs, what can I do for you?"

 _Oh I don't know; stop lying to my face…stop disobeying me….stop treating your safety like a joke…_

"Chemical composition issue with the case report" he said quietly, pushing the file closer to the young woman.

Nodding, she quickly bent over it and chewed her lip thoughtfully, squirming uncomfortably in the presence of the man she thought of a second father.

Leaning against her desk and folding his arms across his chest, Gibbs looked down at the analyst and resisted the urge to reach out and shake her until answers fell out of her.

"So…" he began, amiably, "Ziva says you two had a good time at your concert the other night. Guess I was wrong about it being dangerous then, huh?"

He accompanied this with a tight smile, discontented in the knowledge that he was as far from wrong as it was possible to be.

Looking up slowly, the lip chewing intensified and Gibbs could practically feel the whir of the cogs turning furiously in Abby's head.

"Uhh…erm, well yeah it was uhm…did you say chemical composition problem?"

With that, she dropped her dark head sharply back into the file and Gibbs bit back a barking reprimand.

"Yeah, some of the numbers don't match previous reports apparently. So, did you get up to anything exciting after the concert? Do anything fun?"

Tensing, Abby stared unseeingly at the pages in front of her.

She needed to throw up.

No, scratch that.

Throwing up was a sign of guilt.

No throwing up allowed.

Biting back the bile of guilt and panic that was beginning to make its way up her throat, she looked up from the report and tried to smile.

Feeling only one side of her mouth twitch, she closed her eyes in aguish.

She must look like some kind of anti-drug campaign.

Fighting to regain her composure, she shrugged.

"N-no… not really" she mumbled, in what she desperately hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Gibbs stared hard at his eldest girl as she dropped her head once more into the file, and ground his teeth together in irritation.

Did these people think he was some kind of Gibbs _look-a-like_?

Controlling himself, he forced himself to nod acceptingly.

"Oh good, I guess I have nothing to worry about if you go there again then, if nothing I wouldn't like happened this time?

Groaning to herself, Abby reminded herself sternly that Gibbs would feel bad _eventually_ if he shot her and Ziva.

This was really for his own good.

Positive thinking, positive thinking…

"Uhh…n-no Gibbs….you uhm have uhh…nothing to worry about…"

Murder was definitely on the cards.

Staring right through the girls' soul, Gibbs opened his mouth once more.

But, this time, that was as far as he got.

Barrelling noisily into the lab came a frazzled looking Ziva, so intense in her search for Abby that she did not wait to clear the corner to ensure she was on her own.

This was _despite_ the frantic gestures and expressive eye widening Abby was shooting her way.

"I cannot" she exploded loudly, "I cannot lie to him for a second longer. We have _got_ to tell him!"

A heavy silence ensued, so intense it seemed almost mockingly loud.

Stepping out into the younger girls' line of view, Gibbs arched an eyebrow as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Tell me _what,_ Ziva?"

The squeal of misery behind him that escaped Abby was not unexpected, and as he watched Ziva open and close her mouth in floundering panic, he found he just… didn't want to hear it.

"We…well….I mean" she spluttered, looking up at him hopelessly.

No. He'd heard _quite_ enough from his two today.

"Save it" he ordered grimly, "I already know."

The squeal behind him soared upwards in pitch by at least three octaves.

Turning so that he could hold both horrified looking girls firmly in his gaze, he shook his head.

"Unbelievable. You two are _unbelievable."_

Matching choruses of "Gibbs…" rang out in response, and he immediately held up a hand to silence them.

"My house. _Now."_

…

TBC

…

A/N: This is my first time writing a different kind of problem solving Gibbs, so please let me know you think about his guilt tripping tactic!

Thanks for reading guys!


	12. Reminiscent Ribs

A/N: I'm not sure what happened with this chapter! I had difficulty posting it last night where the site wouldn't accept it, but it eventually went up. I was then informed that it was gone again! I'm posting it again, and apologies for the confusion, I don't know what is/was wrong with it!

The ride to Gibbs' place had been stony at best, and downright suffocating at worst. The irate team leader had barked delegations at DiNozzo as he had swept from the bull pen, with two miserable looking young women in toe.

Swapping quizzical looks with McGee, both agents had shrugged uneasily and turned back to their work, thanking their lucky stars that their boss' evident anger wasn't directed in their direction.

For a change.

Not a single word was spoken as Gibbs deftly steered his car through the heavy DC evening traffic.

He was surprisingly relieved that he had learned of his two silent passengers jaunt into stupidity last night. He was now completely calm and capable of being fair, and rational. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he discreetly sighed when he saw the matching looks of misery on both girls' face.

As calmly mad as he was, he still loathed seeing any of his four upset.

Shaking his head, he turned his car into his driveway and killed the engine.

"In the house girls" he instructed quietly, and slipping out of the car, he set off towards the front door without glancing back to see if they were following. He knew they would be.

Pushing open his front door, he threw himself on the sofa and watched silently as Ziva and Abby filed in after him, gently closing the front door behind them.

Watching them fidget in front of him, he suddenly felt more of his father's age than his own.

Realising his main priority, he pulled himself together.

Standing up, he crossed the room to the two silent girls and stared at them sternly.

"Abby, go to your room. Now."

The young woman looked up at him miserably, and shook her head.

"No Gibbs, this is my fault, I-"

What she was, they never found out.

Calmly reaching out and gently, but firmly taking the protesting girl by the arm, Gibbs turned her quickly to her side and dished out a quick flurry of firm and deliberate swats.

Raising his voice just enough to be heard above the surprised yelping and spluttered "oww's", he looked down at Abby with his firmest expression.

"I have had _just_ about as much disobedience from _you_ to last me a lifetime. Get yourself up those stairs this minute and for once in your life just do as you are _told."_

Large eyes looked up at him in surprised misery, and after a second's hesitation, the young analyst turned and dashed up the stairs.

Sighing, Gibbs turned his attention back to Ziva, who was resolutely staring at the floor.

"Eyes up."

He had long since learned that with his youngest, simple and to the point instructions yielded the best results.

Placing another firm, but gentle hand on her shoulder, he turned the young woman in the direction of the kitchen and steered her firmly towards it. He silently thanked god that at least one of his brood had the common sense to know when to cut their losses and cooperate with him.

Carefully placing the still silent girl in the first chair, he immediately turned and began to rummage around in a nearby cupboard.

Quickly locating the well stocked first aid box, he turned back to a quietly observing Ziva.

Crouching down in front of her, he looked up into her wide eyes and sighed.

"I know your ribs are injured in some way kid" he muttered, "have you bandaged them?"

Biting her lip nervously, the mass of dark curls bobbed as she nodded her head.

"They are just bruised Gibbs" she replied softly, confirming the elder agents earlier suspicions.

"Thought so" he murmured, rooting around in the box for fresh bandages and anti inflammatory cream.

"Stand up" he instructed, as he located what he was looking for.

After a moment's indecision, she did as asked and looked at him questioningly.

"This cream will take away the sting, and keep the swelling down. I always use it" he explained evenly, twisting the cap off the tube.

Ziva gaped at both the deeply concerned expression on his face, and the gentle tone he was using.

"Why uhh…why do you care if they hurt?" she all but spluttered, confusion splashed across her face. "It's my own fault, they _should_ hurt" she added miserably, dropping her gaze down to the floor.

Gibbs' expression matched his in-house killer's as he surveyed her in incredulity.

"What do you mean why do I care if they hurt?" he bit out in shock, "of course I care!"

Ziva tore her gaze up and shrugged somewhat, mumbling something under her breath that Gibbs couldn't decipher, but the sudden pain in her tone made his senses alarm.

"Ziva…" he said gently, "what did you just say?"

She flushed, and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, and shrugged again.

"Nothing, I will put the cream on. Thank you."

Shaking his head, Gibbs reached out and squeezed her shoulders.

"No kid, tell me what you said" he instructed quietly.

He had caught the look of deep sadness that had flashed across her face, that she had then desperately tried to hide.

Huge, doleful eyes looked up at him, before darting back to the floor as the young woman took in a deep, wavering breath.

"It's just…well, it's just…my father he…he would not…he would never permit pain relief in the event of injury…because he believes if I…if I were to do my job right…I would not have been hurt in the first place."

The air that forced its way down Gibbs' windpipe, as he gazed in horror at his girl, felt unnaturally cold.

Feeling his teeth begin to grind ferociously in rage, he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to answer the young woman.

But she wasn't done talking.

Continuing to stare down at the floor, and murmuring… as if almost to herself, the deep brown eyes were now squeezed tightly shut.

"There was this one time…I was just newly accepted into Mossad….and we were training. I mistook a jump and fell…maybe eleven or twelve feet. He had warned me about that jump. I bruised every one of my ribs…and needed stitches. My father was…furious. He….he forbade the doctor from prescribing any medication…and as soon as my eye was stitched…he forced me to repeat the training exercise. He said it would teach me not to listen to him."

Her mouth contorted into some kind of a grimace as the memory played across her conscience.

"I got it right the second time though…until _now_ , I guess when I should have listened to _you_."

If Gibbs men were to routinely vomit, Jethro would have completely upended the contents of his stomach across his kitchen floor as he stared at his youngest girl in complete horror.

He had known Eli was a bastard, of course he had known.

But…the extent… the damage…he had wreaked upon the beautiful girl in front of him conjured up the same kind of rage he still harboured for Pedro Hernandez.

Dropping the tube of cream on the table, he gently moved forwards, his paternal instincts overcoming his own emotions.

Carefully, he reached out, and being careful to not press against the young woman's ribs, he drew her tightly into his arms.

Pressing his face into the wild mop of hair, he closed his eyes tightly.

"Ziver…you're safe now…with me" he whispered fiercely, "I promise."

Breaking apart from him, Ziva looked up and smiled her crooked smile.

"I… have never had any doubt about that, Gibbs."

Cupping her chin in his hand and looking down at her, the elder agent wished, not for the first time, that he could spend some time alone in a room with McGee's, DiNozzo's and Ziva's "father's".

Both being people of few words, they exchanged shy smiles, knowing the message they were silently conveying.

Jethro Gibbs was no Eli David.

"Ok" he said softly, his paternal instinct kicking in again, "we need to get those ribs seen to. Now, I can get Ducky over here if you want?"

She shook her head quickly.

"No, that will not be necessary, I can do it myself."

Nodding, Gibbs wordlessly handed her the tube and the bandage roll and set about putting on a pot of the herbal tea he kept in stock for Ziva, Ducky and Abby.

He forced himself not to think about Director David.

He needed to keep his cool.

Five or so minutes later, Ziva meandered back into the kitchen looking slightly less tense.

Pushing the steaming cup across the table at her, Gibbs arched an eyebrow.

"Is that on properly?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Ziva nodded and gratefully scooped up the fragrant tea.

Suddenly feeling hesitant, remembering how much trouble they were in, she shot a questioning look across the table.

"So…what now?" she asked nervously.

Gibbs leaned back in his chair and picked up his own regular tea, and drank deeply from it.

"Now kid? Now we talk" he responded quietly, but letting a stern note creep into his voice.

Squirming, Ziva nodded.

If there was one thing she hated to do, it was talk.

These Americans and their incessant chatter.

Knowing what was going on inside the young woman's head, Gibbs suppressed his own eye roll.

"Ok…start talking" he instructed simply, looking out over the top of his mug.

Ziva nodded, knowing that he was asking for full disclosure, and out of respect for the man, instantly deciding to give it to him.

"We got drunk" she stated flatly, "we left the club with these two guys…who turned out to be creeps. I got us away from them. But then we realised that we were in the middle of nowhere, with no public transport. So…uhh, we thought we'd uhh…walk."

She winced as Gibbs' jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed in response, but forced herself to continue

"So uhm…yeah, we were…walking and then we were….well we were mugged Gibbs. I managed to get away from where it happened, but it was a struggle. We managed to get home. We…we did not tell you what happened. We lied to you, and I'm…really sorry."

The last few words were all but whispered, as the girl felt herself fill to the brim with guilt, and fix her eyes on her cup.

Across the table, Gibbs was silently digesting her explanation.

It was broadly in line with what he had expected to hear, but…it was definitely phrased in such a way that portrayed Abby in the best light possible. Gibbs knew both of his two to know fine well what had happened.

Ziva would have wanted to call him, and Abby would have pleaded with her not to.

Tightening his jaw once again, he shook his head.

He wasn't going to blame Ziva for trying to protect Abby, but he and his lab rat were going to be having a _very_ long discussion when her turn came.

"Am I correct in assuming, that you didn't call me like I _specifically_ told you to, because you thought I'd lay into you two for being wasted?"

The lip chewing and squirming across the other side of the table, let him know he was correct in his assumptions.

"Yes Gibbs" Ziva muttered quietly, fidgeting diligently with her cup.

He nodded slowly and took in a deep breath.

"I can't even tell you how disappointed I am that you two made that decision" he said quietly, fixing the saddened looking girl with a stern glare.

As sure as he was that Abby had been the brains of this particular screw up, Ziva still should have known better as well.

"M'sorry" she murmured miserably, tasting a rusty tinge as she chewed her lip a little too ferociously.

A look then suddenly flashed across her face, that the elder agent instantly recognised and felt the familiar tugging on his heartstrings.

He _really_ hated to see that look.

Sighing heavily, Gibbs ran appraising gaze over her and stood up.

"Come here" he said firmly, looking intently in her direction.

Gulping, she obediently got her feet and cast her eyes quickly over the kitchen counter tops.

Gibbs bit back a chuckle despite himself.

He knew she was clearly searching to see had he taken out the wooden spoon that the kid positively detested.

Coming to a halt in front of him, she looked up nervously.

She was surprised to find herself, instead of upended over his knee or over the worktop, once again in his arms.

Murmuring into her hair once more, he held her tightly to him, whilst being continuously careful of her ribs.

"You, young lady, are in a whole _world_ of trouble…but, there is _nothing_ you can do that will ever make me stop caring. You understand me?"

The tense posture of the girl in his arms instantly melted away, as she sniffed heavily into his chest.

How did he always _know?_

Satisfied, Gibbs released his youngest girl from his arms once more, and turning her around gently, issued a stinging swat across her backside.

"Ok kid. Living room, now. We have something to take care of."

…..

TBC

…


	13. Chauffeur Chagrin

Gibbs watched almost sadly, as Ziva obediently slunk into the living room. He would have given anything in that moment to forego what he knew he needed to do.

Sighing, and berating himself for his uncharacteristic self pity, he pulled himself together.

Pulling open a nearby drawer, he reluctantly extracted the thick, old fashioned wooden spoon that resided there.

This particular wooden spoon had never stirred a sauce or stoked a stew in its relatively short life. Instead, it was despised by all four of his brood with a healthy passion. Clutching the heavy spoon firmly, he strode into the living room, resolving to get the whole thing over and done with.

Ziva was sat on the sofa, nervously chewing her thumb, a habit he'd grown used to over time.

Sitting down beside her, he placed a warm hand on her knee.

"I don't think you need the lecture. You know what you did wrong, and why it was wrong, right?"

She nodded sadly, but instantly.

"We put ourselves in unnecessary danger, broke our promise, and lied to you."

Gibbs had to smile at that.

Of all of his four, Ziva was definitely the most like him when it came to articulation.

Short, sweet and to the point.

If only he could get DiNozzo to follow suit.

"Ok Ziva, let's get this over with" he said wearily, trying to muster up the strength it took to bring his youngest to task.

She again nodded, and before he could instruct her further, was up and walking towards the end of the sofa where she and the two boys had been draped over many times before.

Seeing this, Gibbs sighed.

As guilty and compliant as Ziva was now, when she learned of the form of punishment he intended to dish out, he knew he was going to have a fight on his hands.

"Stop, Ziva."

Turning to him in confusion, the young woman suddenly spied the wooden spoon resting by his side, and predictably baulked.

Shaking her head furiously, she immediately put her deep brown eyes to their fullest and their most devastating effect.

"Gibbs _no…_ not like that, please" she wheedled, throwing him a morose look of pure misery.

Shaking his head firmly, Gibbs shot the protesting girl a stern glare.

"Do not argue with me Ziva, you're in no position."

Scowling and shaking her head again, she stood her ground.

"I am not a child, it is surely not necessary to punish me like one" she replied, relatively pleased with the disdainful tone that she allowed to colour her voice.

She spied the furrowed brow and the intensifying of the glare, but again, held her stance.

"You _really_ want to stand there and tell me that you think you behaved like an adult?" Gibbs shot straight back, arching his infamous brow in scepticism.

Being slightly floored by this, Ziva floundered and stared at him helplessly.

Being struck by sudden inspiration, she smiled and held onto it tightly.

"Two wrongs do not make a right, no?"

Gibbs gritted his teeth and stared his youngest girl down in traditional style.

"Ziva David, do not push your luck with me. You are in _quite_ enough trouble as it is. Now, come here."

Her tense poise instantly melted and she resumed her full usage of her poodle puppy eyes.

"Gibbs…please. I hate it…" she all but whispered, shuffling miserably.

Sighing, the elder agent wondered briefly was it possible to actually die from exasperation.

"Well, yeah…that's kind of the _point_ kid. It's not exactly walks by the lakeside for me either, so how about we just it over and done with?"

She moved tentatively towards him, before apparently being struck by stagnation once more, and rooting herself to the spot.

"Please, can't I just lean over the sofa?" she murmured pleadingly, fidgeting steadily.

Gibbs sighed, and remembering that he still had to deal with Abby, he sighed even more.

"No, and it's a no for two reasons. The most important one being, I'm _not_ risking any damage to your ribs. I know its bruising, but still. The second one being, you know the rule. You act like a brat, and I will treat you like one. Now, for the _final_ time, _come here."_

Knowing all hope was lost; Ziva made a face but obediently began to walk towards what she considered to be her heinous doom.

She stopped short when she saw Gibbs reach over to the other sofa and grab the softest cushion he owned, placing it half on his knee and half on the sofa seat.

She was so surprised, that she didn't have the awareness to object when he gently took her by the wrist and carefully laid her over his knee.

He meticulously placed her torso on the pillow, ensuring no part of her rib cage was exposed to either his knee or the well worn sofa cushion.

"Try to keep still Ziva, I know it's hard, but I don't want that bruising getting any worse. Ok?"

She felt, to her horror, tears spring up in her eyes.

No one had ever cared for her well being like this.

Her father had been rigidly consumed with the idea that his daughter be the best there was.

But he had never given a seconds consideration to the idea that his daughter was…his _daughter._

He had treated her with clinical indifference, much like how one would fine tune an operating system.

Gibbs…was different.

He was so different.

Biting her lip to keep from crying before the first swat even fell, she buried her head into her arms.

Gibbs for his part carefully wrapped a very loose arm around his youngest's waist, overtly conscious of not pressing upon any of her tender ribs.

Taking in a deep breath, and sternly reminding himself that the girl currently over his knee could just have easily been the girl he was identifying one of Ducky's tables, he raised his hand high.

The first swat fell with much more bite than usual, and despite herself, Ziva let out a surprised hiss.

This was going to be bad.

Quickly finding his well versed rhythm, Gibbs smoothly settled into a steady and rapid tempo, methodically peppering Ziva's backside with deliberate and firm swats.

He didn't scold. He knew she didn't need to hear it.

The only sounds that drifted around the room were the crisp sounds of hand meeting backside and the odd yelp a particularly hard smack elicited.

Gibbs concentrated on spanking his headstrong girl with as much thoroughness as he could force himself to use, ensuring that no part of the upended rear end went without his own special brand of attention.

His keen ears caught a few faint sniffles as they wafted upwards, which let him know his harder than usual force was having the desired effect.

Groaning to himself, he quickly reached up and easily tugged the young woman's loose fitting trousers down just enough to give him access to her panty clad backside.

He instantly picked up the pace, and brought his broad hand down once more, settling back into a steady tempo. The faint sniffles were now becoming not so faint and his own hand was stinging as he continued to dole out yet another punishment to one of his brood.

Ziva bit her lip as the first tears began to roll down her cheeks.

She marvelled once again at how low on the pain scale the current heat in her backside registered, compared against much more severe punishments she had received at her father's hands.

Or her father's _people's_ hands, when he was too busy to deal with his daughter himself.

She had never shed a tear during any of those chastisements.

She had never uttered a syllable of discomfort.

She had completely zoned out, and taken the pain for what it was…simple, calculated, pain.

But as the hand came down across her stinging posterior once more, she gasped and allowed herself to begin crying softly.

Hearing this, Gibbs resisted the urge to pluck his weeping girl off his knee, and instead he reluctantly reached up and pulled her panties down to meet her slacks.

Gritting his teeth, and battling with himself, he reached out and took a firm hold of the spoon beside him.

Rubbing a hand over the small of Ziva's back, he sighed.

"Nearly there kid…nearly there…you're doing great" he murmured gently, "now, try and hold still like I said, ok?"

The answering sob and nodding of the wild mop of curls made his stomach shrivel up, but he too nodded, albeit sadly.

"Good girl" he praised quietly, before raising his arm high once again.

The spoon connected with its usual resounding force, and the strangled whimper it extracted from the crying assassin was far from unexpected.

Gibbs did the best he could in tuning out his youngest girl's now open sobbing, as he diligently lit a fire across her now scarlet backside with the thick wooden spoon.

The room continued to be alight with the brisk swats and loud whimpering and crying.

It was as the sting began to be ignited in the tender sit spots of the well reddened backside that, to his intense relief, Gibbs began to sense the telltale signs that the kid had had enough.

Her sobbing was now a quietly racking weeping. Her torso was beginning to deflate from its tense posture across his knee, as she slumped dejectedly into the protective pillow.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the elder agent issued one last peppering of swats and with one well placed thwack to each sit spot, he threw the spoon out of his hand with gusto.

He immediately placed a hand on the lively mop of hair, and began to gently card it through the curls.

"Breathe for me kiddo, just breathe for me" he soothed quietly, "it's all done now….all done."

She continued to weep across his knee, and he made absolutely no effort to dislodge her.

Murmuring gently to her, he continued to tousle her hair softly and waited with his usual paternal patience for her emotions to come back under her control.

She always took a bit longer to compose herself after being put over his knee as opposed to over the couch, and he was quite willing to settle in for the long haul.

Considerable time passed, and he kept up a constant stream of sincere comfort.

With each word spoken, the crying began to fade and the breathing began to return to normality.

Soon, only the odd muffled sniffle escaped the fiery young woman, and Gibbs knew she was nearly emotionally spent.

Sure enough, a moment or two later, the girl made to right herself and the elder of the two instantly stood with her and quickly located the flung away spoon, giving the young woman some well needed privacy.

Scooping it up and eying it with hatred, he strode quickly back into the kitchen and took his time putting it back where it resided, wishing fervently he wouldn't have to remove it for a long time.

Leaning over the counter, he closed his eyes briefly, and tried to remove the sounds of his girl's sobbing and yelping out of his mind.

Whilst he knew it needed to be done, it never stopped him feeling like a brute when he had cause to reign in any one of his four.

Sighing, he shook his head and pulled himself together.

Quickly barrelling back into the living room, he groaned when he took in the red eyes, and the flushed face looking back at him.

"How you doing Ziver?" he asked kindly, but with an anxious note in his voice.

Smiling slightly at her nickname, she looked up at him ruefully.

"I will let you chauffeur me in future" she mumbled with chagrin, peeking up through red rimmed eyes.

Crossing the room, he deftly reached out and gently cupped her chin in his hand.

"You'd better Ziva, because I _don't_ want to have to repeat this lesson, ok?"

She nodded instantly, and smiled shyly up at him.

Smiling back down at her, he opened his arms and sighed happily as she shot into them.

He breathed another sigh of relief as she squeezed the life out of him.

Eventually breaking apart, she looked up at him uncertainly.

"What it is it?" he asked immediately, having no difficulty in reading the look on her face.

Hesitating slightly, she shuffled somewhat before taking in a deep breath.

"How long am I grounded for this time?" she asked in a small voice, peering up at him with hopeful eyes.

Chucking in amusement at her tone, Gibbs reached out and ruffled her hair.

"Oh I think for life, kid."

The narrowed eyes and the thinly veiled snarl had him chuckling even further, as he held up his hands in defence.

"Ok, well maybe not _life"_ he conceded, "but definitely for the foreseeable future."

"I don't want to hear any whining about it either" he added sternly "grab a bag after work tomorrow and get settled into your cell, because work and home are the only two places you're going to be seeing for quite a while, clear?"

Groaning, Ziva looked up pleadingly.

Of all the four, she was the one who hated restrictions on her liberty the most.

Taking in the now very firm expression on Gibbs' face and feeling the heat radiating in her backside, she bit down the protest that was nearly out of her mouth.

"Clear, Gibbs" she murmured quietly, albeit with a fairly pronounced pout.

Reaching out, the older agent carefully drew her into her arms once again.

"Good girl" he mumbled quietly, "try and behave yourself now, ok?"

He caught the rolling eyes when he released her, and chuckled.

She was well on her way to being back to normal then.

"Ok Ziva, why don't you go on up and get washed up, and send Abby down to me."

With that, he threw himself wearily into his usual armchair and did his best not to let out a groan of protest of having to repeat the whole process he'd just gone through.

Ziva didn't move for a moment.

She knew there was no hope in pleading Abby's case, but looking at Gibbs, she felt a pang of guilt for how… weary he looked.

They always thought about hard it was for _them_ to have their asses kicked by their unconventional boss, but…they never really thought about how hard it must be _him._

Hide it as he might, they all knew he was as kind a man anyone could hope to meet. Blistering their hides couldn't exactly be _easy_ for him.

Acting on instinct more than anything, she suddenly started towards the slumped Gibbs.

Hearing her approach, he looked up questioningly, jolting himself out of his reverie.

The quick kiss she dropped on his forehead was accompanied by a rare bout of emotional speech from the usually reserved assassin.

"Kelly… would have grown to be an amazing young woman with you for a father, Gibbs."

With that, she turned and padded from the room and had vanished from sight before Jethro had time to blink back the tears that had suddenly formed in his eyes.

…

TBC

….


	14. Golden Child Blues

Gibbs looked up slowly as Abby padded very reluctantly into the room, chewing her lip nervously and fidgeting with the cuffs of her shirt. He forced himself wearily, to sit up, and to school his features into firmness as she approached.

Pointing to the arm chair across from him, he fixed her with a stern glare.

"Sit. Now."

Abby gulped.

Gibbs never spoke to her like that. This was his Tony voice.

She was, oh so very, dead.

Scurrying over to her assigned perch, she looked torn between staring at the floor miserably and staring at the irate boss miserably.

The end result of this was that she looked like she was coming down from a bad reaction to strong medication.

Sighing, Gibbs leant forward and clasped her twitching hands in his own and held them firmly.

"Stop fidgeting, and look at me right now" he commanded quietly.

For once having the sense to do as instructed the first time round, she tore her gaze up and ceased her jerky movements.

"I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen. Understand?"

The continued firmness of his tone made the young woman's head swoon slightly, but she nodded her acceptance nonetheless.

"You young lady, looked me in the eye and promised me that you would call me if you needed me. Instead, you did not. You chose to completely break that promise to me, disobey me, and put yourself in danger as a direct consequence. I know both of you to know well enough without anyone telling me, that _you_ were the one who pushed against calling me."

He paused for a moment to take a breath, and to take stock of the effect of his words.

The ashen face staring back at him let him know they were hitting home.

Sighing, he pushed on.

"Your behaviour is inexcusable. I am _sick and tired_ of you using that fact that it's so damned difficult to say no to you, to drag the other three along with whatever madness comes out of your head. Most of that is my fault, I let you away with everything short of murder and it seems that it's resulted in you turning into a spoiled little brat. Am I correct?"

She gaped at him slightly, but managed to jerk her head up and down.

Man he was really pissed.

A brat? He had called her a _brat?_ A _spoiled_ brat at that?

"You do _not_ get to disobey me, just because you think I'm going to go easier on you than I do the boys and Ziva. It's not fair to them, and I'm putting a stop to it right now. Do you understand how disrespectful it is to me, to use my affection for you, against me? Manipulating it for your own ends?"

The air in the room seemed to be as thick as sludge, as it refused to cooperate in making its way into Abby's lungs. She gasped a little, as she felt the bile of guilt burst like a dam inside of her. She hadn't realised she took such advantage of Gibbs' open adoration of her. Sure, she pushed the boundaries of being the favourite, but she…she never thought she _manipulated_ his love for her. Feeling tears of shame spring up in her eyes; she looked up at him morosely.

"I'm sorry" she all but wailed, fixing her wide eyes on the man in front of her.

"I never…I never intended to…to manipulate…I just…I'm so sorry" she babbled, her fidgeting beginning anew.

Gibbs sighed again as he observed her, cursing himself for his role in this.

He coddled her, he made excuses for her and he protected her from consequences as far as he could.

 _He_ had spoiled her, and this was the result.

Opening his mouth, he forced himself to remain resolute.

"Abby…you know damn well the boys and Ziva would do anything for you, that they adore you. You _cannot_ keep using that affection to get your own goddamned way, and getting _them_ in trouble as a result. You have _got_ to start taking no for an answer, and not wheedling your way into getting what you want every single time. Do you understand me?"

She looked at him with a pained expression that twisted his gut, and nodded slowly.

"I understand" she all but whispered, feeling sick as she thought about all the times she had dragged her three favourites into all kinds of hot water.

She closed her eyes, as she remembered that in all those instances she had practically forced them into giving her what she wanted.

Gibbs was right; she _was_ turning into a spoiled brat.

"When you didn't call me, and when you _persuaded_ Ziva not to call me, what was your reasoning?"

He already knew of course, but he wanted to hear it from her.

Looking up slowly, she squirmed in her chair, but forced herself to answer.

"Didn't want to get in trouble" she mumbled quietly, feeling the full force of her stupidity in decision making crashing around her as she spoke.

Silence descended for a moment as Gibbs ran appraising eyes over his eldest girl.

He knew his words would be the worst part of this punishment for her, and he loathed that, but he knew it needed to be done.

"And how did that work out?" he asked dryly.

The muttered "not…not very well" oozed misery, and he stifled a sigh in response.

He was really getting far too old for this carry on.

"I'm disappointed in you. You know damn well what I expect from my people, and you damn well know what I don't expect. Am I right?"

"Yes Gibbs" Abby whispered despondently, wishing the ground would just swallow her up whole.

Feeling his resolve weaken as he took in the sadness etched on his eldest girls face, Gibbs yielded somewhat.

"Come here" he said firmly, but gently.

She didn't hesitate to obey him, which went some way in mollifying the elder agent.

As she approached him, she winced as he reached out and took a hold of her wrist, expecting to be upended over his knee.

Instead, he drew her into his arms and held her to him.

She instantly melted into his embrace and sniffled somewhat into his chest.

Pressing his face into her hair, he opened his mouth yet again.

"I'm cross, and I'm disappointed in you, but you're still my Abb's" he murmured softly, and smiled slightly as she let out another, but much louder sniffle and tightened her hold on his shirt.

Letting her rest against him for a few moments, he eventually extracted her carefully from his torso.

Knowing that he needed to speak no further, he carefully took her wrist as she was seated beside him, and firmly laid her over his knee.

"Know exactly why you're here, yes?" he asked quietly, wrapping his arm around her slim waist and holding her firmly in position.

To her credit, the answering "yes Gibbs" rang out strong and clear, and without hesitation.

Clearly his words had had their desired effect then.

Tightening his jaw, he saw no point in delaying the inevitable, and dished out the first of swat of what would be a long, hard punishment.

As with Ziva, he quickly settled into spanking his eldest girl with a familiarity born of too much experience. He methodically peppered the upended backside with hard and firm swats, not pausing between swats, or offering any relief.

It wasn't long before the girl began to squirm across his knee, reacting predictably to the upped ante of forceful swats.

Gibbs never spanked her so hard to begin with, which just added to her already well formed notion that he was about just as mad as he'd ever been with her.

She gritted her teeth, and did her best to keep still as his broad hand came down again and again, but it was a losing battle. As she wriggled, or attempted to wriggle away from the unyielding swats, the first tears sprang up in her eyes as he easily held her in place.

The fire was beginning to build in her backside, and the tears that she had kept in her eyes for as long as possible, were now streaming freely down her face. They streamed even faster when she felt her pants being gently tugged down, and the swats beginning anew on her panty clad rear.

Soon the room was filled with loud "oww's" and whimpering, mixed with brisk and rapid swats.

Gibbs felt a hundred years older than his chronological birth as he forced himself to keep a firm hold on his wriggling lab rat, whilst simultaneously ensuring that sitting wasn't going to be a pleasurable experience for the foreseeable future.

He deftly tugged down her panties, and didn't break gate as he landed the first stinging swat on her now bared and crimson backside.

It was this first swat that brought out the dam of loud sobbing that had been threatening to burst its banks from the word go, as Abby completely dropped the pretence of taking her punishment quietly.

She whimpered and sobbed as the sting continued to mount, squirming vigorously when Gibbs applied well earned heat to her tender sit spots.

She positively howled when the first thwack of the previously unseen wooden spoon descended upon her scorched rear, not needing to look back to see what implement of doom was being yielded.

They _all_ knew that spoon.

Gibbs gritted his teeth as the loud sounds of discomfort vibrated around the room.

With difficulty, he forced himself to continue bringing the spoon down at a rapid pace, longing all the while to pluck his headstrong charge off of his knee and into his arms.

It wasn't long however before Abby's torso, as Ziva's had, began to go limp across his knee.

With the application of a few more well placed swats, the loud and strangled sobbing transitioned into the usual contrite and emotionally spent weeping.

Bringing the spoon down firmly across the well punished sit spots for the last time; he dished out the final swat and threw it out of his hand instantly.

His hand instantly flew to the small of his girl's back, as he began to rub his trademark soothing circles upon it.

The young woman's broken weeping tore at his heart, and he fervently wished to lift her up off his lap and hold her, but he knew she wasn't ready.

He therefore waited patiently, murmuring softly all the while, for Abby to regain control of her emotions.

His warm hand never let the small of her back, his comforting presence going a long way to stem the now intermittent crying escaping the scientist as she lay across his knee.

Soon, the last tear fell and all that remained were the post crying snuffles, as the young woman began to feel her breathing returning to normal levels.

With a last rub to her eyes, she gulped some air down and made to rise herself from the all too familiar position of being across Gibbs' lap.

As per his custom, the seasoned agent stood up with his ward, and turning, he scooped the spoon up from he had discarded it, and made a chore of returning it to its residence for the second time that evening.

He quickly threw the spoon back where it belonged, eying it with distaste, as he reached out and filled a glass with water.

Gulping it down gratefully he took a moment to get his own emotions under control.

Believe it though they might not, he was never that far off from being as reluctant to dish out a punishment as his four were to take one.

He knew it would be a long night hammering away at his boat for him to completely rid himself of the guilt he always felt from making any of his four burst into tears.

He spared a quick thought for his own father, and the struggles involved in raising a smart mouthed, head strong LJ Gibbs on his own.

He had been as incorrigible as Tony, as complex as Tim, as stubborn as Ziva, and as wilful as Abby.

He grinned somewhat despite himself when he realised that each of his four resembled a much younger self, albeit in different ways.

Throwing back the last of the water, he quickly grabbed a bottled version for his eldest girl before starting back into the living room.

Abby Sciuto just didn't _do_ tap water.

As with Ziva, taking in the bleary eyes and the flushed face as she stared back at him, he was forced to bite down the guilt that bubbled in his gut.

Holding out the water silently to the standing girl, he racked an anxious gaze over her.

He had never been so tough with his words with the kid before, nor so hard with his hand.

"Talk to me Abb's" he said gently, looking down at her, "how are you doing?"

She didn't answer for a moment, looking up at him studiously through red rimmed eyes.

He was beginning to feel moderately sick from anxiety as he looked at her, looking at him, silently.

"I'm with _you_ Gibbs" she pointed out, in a quiet, hitched voice "so… I'm doing just fine."

Feeling relief radiate through him, he smiled his rare smile down at her.

"I'm not off the Christmas card list then?" he teased gently, reaching out to ruffle her hair.

The first signs of the normal, bouncy ball that was Abby shone through as she looked at him in horror.

"Gibbs" she spluttered in outrage, "how could you say that?"

Chuckling, he thanked his lucky stars that he'd been blessed with four maddening, but amazing kids.

"I don't know what I was thinking" he placated, his eyes twinkling.

"But if that's the case" he continued, "can I have my hug now?"

His lungs protested instantly as their reserve of oxygen was removed as she bolted into his arms, wrapping herself diligently around his torso.

Sighing in relief, he wrapped his broad arms around her and held her to him tightly.

"That's my girl" he said gently, rubbing her back softly.

A few moments passed and the two broke apart, with Abby looking up at him questioningly.

Knowing what the gaze was communicating, he sighed slightly.

"Yup. Grounded. _Very_ grounded" he confirmed, forcing a firm note into his voice.

The gaze intensified as she continued to look up at him.

"Indefinitely" he answered, "I'll let you know when I think you're ready to be released."

She nodded slowly, forcing herself not to scowl or sulk, much to Gibbs' amusement.

"Oh, and Abby?" he added, feeling all of his years on the planet.

"Yeah?" she answered slowly, hearing a note of…something, in his voice.

"You are going to spend an hour every day for the next two weeks volunteering at the intern recruitment fare, teaching _remedial_ field work science. Understand?"

Silence descended in the Gibbs household, as a mild staring contest ensued.

He had dished out the remedial teaching punishment once before, and it had resulted in a mammoth battle of wills between senior agent and forensic scientist.

The young woman battled with herself, warring with the urge to protest and the common sense to remain silent.

"You didn't give Ziva extra did you?" she settled for asking, a mildly accusing tone colouring her words.

Biting his lip to keep from laughing at the expression looking back at him, he shook his head.

"Nope. And I think _you_ know why you're getting extra, or do I need to go back over it?"

The trademark pigtails flew wildly as she shook her head vigorously.

"Remedial science, sure…no problem… everyone loves…remedial…science" she answered, weakly.

At this, Gibbs couldn't help himself.

Bursting into laugher, he gently guided a now openly scowling Abby to the foot of the stairs.

"That's the spirit Abb's" he chuckled, pointing up the staircase.

"Now, go on and get washed up. I suppose I'd better get started on _feeding_ you two."

Instantly brightening up, she twisted around to show off her best puppy eyes.

"Roast potatoes?" she implored, never being able to recreate the effect Gibbs somehow managed to pull off with a modest potato.

Rolling his eyes, he smiled down at her.

"That's seasoned inmate privileges you're looking for" he chided half-heartedly, whilst already planning on making them.

Abby grinned devishly at him in response.

"What?" he asked warily, eying her mischievous grin with suspicion.

"Yeah…but I'm the favourite" she laughed, darting expertly out of the way of the exasperated swat Gibbs aimed at her backside, scampering up the stairs, with the odd wince.

Hearing slightly raised voices fighting over the bathroom, the much relieved Jethro rolled his eyes and set off towards the kitchen, before a sudden thought struck him.

Why did he _always_ end up being the one cooking dinner?

…

TBC

…

A/N: This will probably be my last update for while as I have exams in a month! I will however definitely continue posting after exams finish.

Thanks for reading guys!


	15. Sacks Full of Woe

Gibbs' eyes narrowed as the impatient order rained down from above. Glancing up with his characteristic indifference to Vance's authority, he arched an eyebrow impassively. When the Director shot him a deathly stare, he prevented himself from rolling his eyes and slowly heaved himself up to obey the "get your ass up here now" order.

He took his time sauntering up the stairs, barking instructions at his team as he went.

Vance made his way to his office at a brisk gate, with a completely unperturbed Gibbs meandering in tow. Anyone else would have begun to break out in a sweat at the obvious irate nature of the NCIS director, but LJ Gibbs didn't care for cold sweats. Certainly not ones brought about through the maddening whims of the higher ups.

He rolled his eyes as Vance snapped at him to shut the door as he strode around his desk and threw himself into his chair.

Placing himself in front of the expensive desk, Gibbs remained silent and waited with mounting impatience for the Director to spit out whatever the hell it was that was wrong with him _this_ time.

"Why is it, Special Agent Gibbs, that it is _always_ your team that causes me _nothing_ but grief?"

The field agent stood impassively, but inside he sighed whilst his mind set into overdrive.

Which one was it this time…DiNozzo? He hadn't been acting strangely though…Ziva? No….

"Agents DiNozzo and McGee" carried on Vance, effectively ruining Gibbs' thought process, "have brought this agency, _my,_ agency into disrepute."

Gibbs arched his infamous brow in a silent request that the director get to the damned point.

Intertwining his fingers, and resting his head upon them Vance shot him a murderous look.

"Were you aware Agent Gibbs that a complaint has been filed by the office of professional responsibility, courtesy of the FBI no less, regarding two persons fitting the description of your agents to a T?"

Gibbs refrained from rolling his eyes. Just.

"Fitting their _descriptions_ Leon? The feds incapable of a positive ID nowadays?"

Bristling, the Director took a deep breath.

"They didn't get a _chance_ to get their names Gibbs, not when _Agent Sacks_ was grabbed from behind by one as he made his way into the feds hangout bar, whilst the other dumped an entire bucket full of, what has been identified as a mixture of flour, eggs, cooking oil and sour milk, over his head."

A cloaking silence descended in the room as the field agent forced these words to penetrate his brain.

Agent Sacks…that was bad. There was a known feud between DiNozzo and Sacks, everyone knew it.

Gibbs gritted his teeth as he remembered the cause of the feud.

Shaking these thoughts away vigorously, he pulled himself together.

Surely his two wouldn't do something so stupid. They _knew_ how much both agencies frowned upon outright discourse between agents.

"Any proof of this Leon?" he growled across the table, "because, I sure as hell ain't going to accept that my two had anything to do with this without any."

Vance held his tongue at this, and began tapping away at his keyboard with an irritating urgency, before swivelling his monitor around to face Gibbs.

As the grainy figure of Agent Sacks walked towards the bar on the CCTV footage, Gibbs sighed. He was getting way too old for this.

He watched silently as two young men, approached the FBI agent stealthily from behind. Eyes narrowing he growled to himself when the sandy brown hair of the taller man fell out from his hooded jumper. As far as CCTV footage went, the guy sure looked a dead ringer for Tony.

Sighing, he watched on as the smaller of the two leapt on the unsuspecting back of the federal agent, and held him tightly whilst the taller one upended a vast quantity of what was clearly gunk over the thrashing man's head.

Gibbs closed his eyes briefly in wearied despair, but forced himself to act like a trained agent and analyse the footage.

The taller one, as much as it made his stomach churn to admit it, was definitely Tony.

The smaller one though…he wasn't so sure. It might, but it mightn't be McGee. It was hard to say.

This guy was a tad smaller and stockier than his junior agent.

Plus, the prank was much more Tony-ish than Tim-ish.

"Well?" snapped Vance abruptly, pulling Gibbs unwillingly out of his reverie, "what do you intend to do about this?"

Pulling himself together, the field agent realised that with his boy's skin on the line, now was not the time to get clever.

"I will get to the bottom of it Director. Rest assured, it will be handled."

Studying the tight expression on his MCRT chiefs face, Vance nodded curtly.

"Good. Now get out, I have waves to smooth over with the FBI director. This happens again Gibbs, and I'm going to start thinking we have a _management_ problem. You understand?"

"Yes Director" Gibbs sighed, biting back a smart ass comment and quickly vacating the office with as much speed as he could muster with dignity.

Checking his watch as he bounded angrily down the stairs, he saw with relief that it was close to knocking off time.

Careering into the bull pen, he shot a murderous look at the bent over and seemingly angelic heads of his two boys.

"Ziva, you can finish up for the day. McGee, DiNozzo, with me. Now."

With that, he turned on his heel and swept from the office area, and made his way to the much used conference room.

Much used by him, that was.

It had thick walls, and he had wilful agents.

Tony and Tim got to their feet slowly, exchanging anxious looks. Ziva, for her part spared them a sympathetic glance before scampering out of the building with haste.

"What did you do now McGormless?" Tony hissed as they trailed in the wake of an obviously angry Gibbs.

Tim shot him a wounded look in response.

"Me?" he scoffed, "whatever this is, it has _you_ written all over it."

Their bickering was cut short when the elder of the three came to an abrupt halt outside the conference room door, and swung it open.

"In" he ordered curtly.

The two nonplussed agents skirted in, each racking their brains frantically for the cause of their boss' obvious ire.

Shutting the door with a snap, Gibbs rounded on his two boys with a sterner than stern expression.

"Did you two organise a prank on Agent Sacks of the FBI, by grabbing him outside a goddamned bar and pouring a bucket of…of _stuff_ over his head last night?" he growled, as usual, getting straight to the point.

A brief and shocked silence took place, before Tony broke it.

By bursting into snorting laughter.

Gibbs' eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched his senior agent rack with laughter, and sighed.

Turning his gaze to the younger agent, he studied him closely.

The kid looked completely bewildered.

"Did you have anything to do with this Tim?" he asked, moderating his voice into a more gentle tone.

"No boss, I swear" he blurted out immediately, his eyes widening with sincere innocence.

Gibbs racked an appraising gaze over his junior agent, and his gut feeling was reaffirmed.

Add his gut to the dissimilarities he spotted in the CCTV footage, he was convinced.

"Alright Tim, off you go then" he ordered, striding over and opening the conference room door.

McGee stood uncertainly, his eyes flickering between the now silent and alarmed looking Tony and the resolved looking Gibbs.

"Boss, what about Tony?" he stuttered, torn between self preservation and loyalty.

"Off you go Tim" Gibbs merely repeated, allowing a stern note to creep into his voice.

Knowing when a situation was hopeless, McGee shot Tony a sincere look of sympathy before obediently striding out of the room.

Snapping the door shut once more, Gibbs once again rounded into the room.

"What the hell were you thinking Tony?" he growled, "you know that goddamned Agent has it in for you. Why give him this?"

DiNozzo merely gaped in the elder man's direction for a few moments, struggling valiantly to find his voice.

Gibbs waited with more patience than he knew he possessed.

"Boss, I didn't" Tony eventually spat out in shock, not having believing for a second that Gibbs _had_ actually believed he would do something so moronic.

The senior agent drew a deep, calming breath.

"Don't give me that Tony. You're on CCTV, you hate that guy and your response when confronted about it was to burst out laughing for god's sake!"

"I'm what? I'm on what CCTV?"

Gibbs closed his eyes wearily for a moment and forced himself to remain relatively sane.

"Vance just showed me footage of you, and presumably one of your bone headed friends grabbing Sacks outside a bar last night. Which now that I think about it, actually makes sense, seeing as I called you twice last night on a lead and you didn't pick up. Too busy dragging the name of this agency through the mud were you?"

Tony felt the room start to spin slightly, as his brain struggled to keep up with his ears.

He gulped down a large helping of air, and tried to get a hold of himself.

"Boss, you don't think…c'mon you can't think that I did this?" he squeaked.

So much for getting a hold of himself.

Sighing, Gibbs leant against the large oak table and shook his head sadly.

"Don't make this worse on yourself Tony. You know how I feel about lying. Come clean, now."

Squawking, DiNozzo took three steps back.

"But I _didn't_ do it. Boss c'mon man… I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I'm being framed! _Again."_

"Tony…"

Gibbs sighed once more, and stood up.

"Come on. Let's get this over with" he instructed firmly, reaching for his belt buckle.

Tony squeaked and took _another_ three steps back, shaking his head wildly.

"Boss _please"_ he babbled "you've got to believe me! I swear, I had _nothing_ to do with it. You believed McGee, why not me?"

Gibbs pulled his belt through his pant loops in one go, and doubled it over in his hands before answering.

"Because McGee doesn't have a history of these frat boy pranks. Because McGee isn't on that footage and because McGee knows better than to pull an inter agency disaster like this! Now, get over here."

Gibbs turned towards the conference room table as he spoke.

It was because of this, he just didn't see.

He didn't see the cloud that came down over Tony's eyes.

He didn't see the change in the way that Tony held himself.

He didn't see the way Tony's jaw tightened.

Even if he had been looking at him, there was no way he could have seen the pain that was spreading throughout his eldest boy. Pain that had nothing to do with the sting of a belt.

In four strides, the senior field agent had crossed the room and placed himself in the very familiar position over the conference room table.

Except, this time. For the very first time, he didn't deserve what was about to happen.

He closed his eyes tightly as he felt Gibbs' hand come down on his back. It took all his strength and character not to throw it off. The hand that usually gave him so much reassurance and comfort, was loathsome to him now. He barely recognised it as Gibbs' hand. It felt so much more like…like before.

The first lash landed with its usual expediency, but he did not cry out.

He would not cry out.

He had learned, a long…long time ago that that would only make things worse.

He closed his eyes tighter still as the second lick fell, and recalled all his coping mechanisms of years gone by with gusto.

He could do this, he knew, because he had done this before.

So many times before.

He laid his head down on the cool table and blocked out the pain. Blocked out the hurt.

This was just another beating, like so many before.

He cried out if he was being spanked. But, never a beating.

Same drill, different person.

Gibbs for his part, was rapidly becoming disconcerted.

Tony had eventually come to his senses and basically admitted what he had done by accepting his punishment, but…something was off about the kid.

His back remained completely tense and taught, and he had not uttered a syllable as each lick of the belt fell.

Whilst the kid generally _did_ put up a stoic front, that usually dropped after four or five swats.

This time, he seemed determined to get through without any of that.

Sighing, Gibbs forced himself to carry on doing the thing he hated more than anything when it came to his four.

He decided against making Tony drop his slacks, deciding that this needed to be an effective, but quick lesson.

He laid down a few more licks on the soft sit spots of his eldest boy, before landing another few on the centre of his butt. With one particularly searing swat, he stood back and quickly threaded his belt back through his pants.

He immediately went to crouch down beside his senior agent, but it was a mooted gesture.

Tony was already on his feet, swiping his hand across his wet eyes.

Slightly wrong footed, Gibbs quickly recovered and instead, moved to pull the boy into his arms.

To his dismay, Tony quickly side stepped the intended embrace and stared through watery eyes over his boss' shoulder.

Drawing in a ragged breath, he found his voice.

"If it's ok, I'd like to get off now. I have a date tonight."

His words were hitched, but non-wavering.

Gibbs stared wordlessly at his detached and frankly…odd, senior agent.

"Tony…what's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just been a bit of a day, and I need to pick up a few things. Can I go?"

All of this was said to a spot somewhere in the far corner of the room.

Gibbs reached out and placed a hand on the kid's shoulder, and to his further dismay, Tony grimaced at the gesture.

Pulling himself together, the team leader tried to ignore the fact that usually he would have his arms full of DiNozzo at this stage in proceedings, and tried to remain rational.

"You sure you're ok son?" he asked gently.

Nodding brusquely, Tony arched an eyebrow in the unspoken and repeated request for a dismissal.

"Ok then I guess… off you go" Gibbs somewhat croaked out, feeling completely helpless against the tidal wave of his gut feeling.

Without a further word, Tony spun on his heel and strode from the conference room, snapping the door shut behind him.

It was only when he made it to the safety of his car, did he allow the tears he was holding in to fall.

Had anyone been in the car with him, they would have been confused and alarmed by the hurt filled words that he choked out.

"I'm not your son."

A/N: So, way back in the earlier chapters I said I had a storyline for Tony and Tim that I wanted to try out, and this is it. I wanted to try my hand at a "not always right/perfect Gibbs" and see what happens!

Just wanted to say thank you to everyone for bearing with me with no postings over the last month. I have one exam left, but needed a study break and this chapter is the result! Thanks so much to all those who sent me lovely messages of good luck! They've gone well so far!

I will be updating the rest of my stories soon as well, the first one being The Trust Equation for those of you who are following that one as well.

As always, please let me know what you think and thanks for reading guys!


	16. Professional Professionals

The tossing and turning was driving him into a state of madness.

The well worn couch creaked in protest under his weight as he writhed.

He had called Tony at around seven. The agent had dutifully picked up on the third ring.

But…it was like an autopilot Tony. A recorded Tony.

He had used the excuse of checking on a lead to cover the call. Tony had been courteous, professional and obliging.

There had been no warmth in his voice. It was clinically polite. He didn't make a single joke. He didn't offer to come over as he so often did.

Nothing.

He had once again asked him straight out if he was ok.

Tony had responded immediately in the affirmative. Everything was fine…just dandy.

He had then made his polite excuses, and ended the call, citing the date he had mentioned earlier.

Sighing angrily, Gibbs threw the pillow that was inoffensively supporting his head across the room and settled down on the couch once more.

Something was wrong with the kid, but for the life of him he didn't know what it was.

It couldn't have been that he was too hard on him. The spanking he'd dished out had been almost tame compared to some of the sore backsides Tony had earned himself over the years.

It wasn't as if he forced the kid to take the spanking, he never did that, to any of them.

His senior agent had willingly accepted his punishment for his ridiculous stunt hadn't he? So what was the problem? He could hardly think that he could get off scot free for what he had done.

Gibbs turned once again and groaned to himself as he remembered how his eldest had grimaced as he had squeezed his shoulder.

His stomach began to play host to a healthy bout of nausea.

Usually Tony fell into his arms without a second's hesitation after being taken in hand.

Squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, Gibbs was once again lost to his thoughts. After an hour or so, he fell into an uneasy and troubled sleep. The last image that played on his mind before he slipped into a restless rest was his senior agents face twitching as he tried to comfort him.

The next morning came with an almost indecent haste, and Gibbs moaned as the dawns rays pierced their way through his living room window.

He was exhausted.

Hoisting himself up, he forced himself to perform his usual morning routine and soon he was in his trusty car on the way to the Navy Yard.

Striding into the bull pen his heart stopped slightly when he spied Tony's empty desk. Ziva and McGee were already at their work stations, working diligently.

Before he could enquire as to his senior agent's whereabouts, the man himself appeared out of the copying room, laden down with case reports.

Passing by his boss, he gave a courteous smile and a polite "morning Gibbs", before settling himself down at his desk.

The team leader blinked.

Since when was the kid so polite this early in the morning? Since when did he _not_ pass off the boring work of proofing case reports over to McGee? And since when did he call him Gibbs?

The elder of the team didn't know it happened, but organically it had. The girls called him Gibbs, and the boys, Boss. It was an unspoken term of endearment, much like his nicknames for them.

Gibbs coming from Ziva or Abby was completely normal, Gibbs coming from Tony….was not.

Shaking his head slightly, he threw himself behind his own desk resigned to the pile of cold cases that had materialised over time.

As he worked, he kept sneaking furtive glances at Tony.

He was the picture of federal perfection. He worked quickly, efficiently and quietly. He never once threw a rubber bank at Tim, or interrogated Ziva about her love life. He didn't look twice at the beautiful blonde intern that deposited the day's mail on his desk, other than to give her a polite nod.

Gibbs was growing more and more uneasy by the minute as he surveyed the kid.

He looked like Anthony DiNozzo, but he sure as hell didn't like it.

Blinking he forced himself to return to his work.

The hours droned on, and soon lunchtime had descended.

Ziva and Tim wasted no time scampering to their feet to dart out to the three's favourite deli. Gibbs watched surreptitiously as they stopped at Tony's desk, trying valiantly to get him to join them. The team leader watched as Tony politely shook his head and smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes and tell them he needed to get through his pile of cases.

The two exchanged worried glances, and tried once again, only to be turned down.

When the elevator doors pinged, obscuring a clearly perplexed Tim and Ziva from view, Gibbs threw down his own pen. Heaving himself up, he crossed the bullpen to Tony's station, and perched on the side of his desk.

"You wanna grab a bite over at that Italian place you like instead Tony? My treat."

Usually the senior agent would have jumped at the idea, but today, he once again shook his head politely.

"Thanks Gibbs, but I really need to get these reports done today. I'll get something later."

The elder man closed his eyes wearily for a moment.

Deciding against beating around the bush, he leaned in closer to the kid and was chagrined when Tony leant an equal space back.

"Are you angry because I punished you yesterday?"

His voice was quiet, and loaded with concern.

Not even looking up from the report he had refocused on, Tony once again shook his head.

"No Gibbs."

That was it. Nothing else. No elaboration, no eye contact, no…nothing.

Gibbs blinked once again.

"Tony…please" he murmured quietly, completely breaking with his usual brusque demeanour, "please…if I've done something to upset you, could you tell me?"

This time the kid did look up, and the coldness in his brilliant green eyes was almost palpable.

"I'm fine Gibbs. I really have to get on now, if there's nothing else?"

Without waiting for a reply, the sandy brown head was dropped back in the bulky file once more, leaving Gibbs feeling floored.

What the hell was going on?

He studied the kid closely for a second, taking in the tense poise of his body, and the bags under his eyes.

Clearly he wasn't the only one who had sleeping last night.

Sighing a resigned sigh, he nodded sadly and slid of Tony's desk.

"Ok" he murmured quietly, and made his way out of the bullpen in search of coffee…and air.

Tony watched his retreating back with narrowed eyes and felt…nothing.

He felt absolutely nothing.

He had almost forgotten what it was like to feel so empty, to feel like a vessel with no substance.

He knew that it was possible to feel that way, of course he knew. He had grown up that way.

He just never knew…never believed that Gibbs could make him feel that way again.

He glanced back down at the file, and tried to lose himself in it.

When he was a kid, he had always lost himself in comics. Maybe this case file would do the same job.

Gibbs sat slumped outside his favourite caffeine haunt, staring moodily into the distance.

Something was very wrong with his eldest boy, but he didn't know what the hell it was and it was crystal clear that Tony wasn't going to tell him anytime soon.

He sat there for half an hour, not actually touching the coffee in front of him.

A seagull perched on a railing in front of him, took flight hurriedly after a particularly ferocious bout of teeth grinding was sent his way.

His cell beeped, rudely interrupted his pensive reverie.

Growling, he snatched it from his pocket.

They had a case.

Throwing his still full coffee in the nearest trash can, he made his way back to the Navy Yard at an agitated pace.

Ten minutes later, and he rounded into the bull pen where Tony, Tim and Ziva were huddled around the plasma waiting for him.

McGee took charge of the presentation they had just received, and five minutes later the case analysis was in full swing.

Tim read on, but stopped at what would later be determined to be the killer's signature.

The writing of famous movie quotes on his victims' bodies. In their own blood.

McGee's, Ziva's and Gibbs' eyes swivelled to Tony for his anticipated burst of speech.

Three sets of eyes widened when the senior agent merely made note of the signature on the pad in front of him, and looked up at Tim expectantly to continue the presentation.

Tim and Ziva turned back to the plasma in confusion, and the junior agent continued to speak.

What he was saying, Gibbs didn't know. His eyes hadn't left Tony, who was diligently writing as Tim spoke.

He was beginning to feel a little bit sick.

Tony was perfect. His behaviour of the day was that of a faultlessly perfect, polite and professional senior field agent.

And Gibbs detested it.

He wanted _Tony_ back, and he wanted him back right now, movie quotes and all.

He forced himself to jerk back into reality, and dished out orders on following up leads.

When all three of his people had vacated the bull pen, he threw himself down at his desk and dropped his head into his hands.

None of his ex wives had been this stressful to deal with when they were obviously upset.

How could his boy be more emotionally wearing than freaking Diane?

He sat there, staring blankly at his computer monitor for an hour before following up his own lead.

Ziva, Tim and Tony meandered back into the bull pen one by one over time and updated him on their respective leads.

Gibbs senses were heightened as he watched Tony recount his lead follow up. The kid made eye contact with him, but his eyes were closed off. He smiled, but it didn't reach his clouded eyes. His body language was tense; his words were polite, but clipped.

All in all, it didn't take a genius to realise that Tony wanted as much space between him and his boss as was physically possible.

Sighing, he nodded his head in acceptance of the sitrep and Tony immediately returned to his desk and buried himself in a database search.

An hour or so passed, and with Gibbs fighting the strains of exhaustion, decided to call it a night.

Tim and Ziva immediately jumped to their feet and packed up. The team leader watched with a sense of déjà vu as they stopped at Tony's desk and invited him out for drinks. Once again, the kid politely declined. No jokes, no put downs, just a simple and polite "no thanks guys not tonight, have fun though."

Ziva and McGee exchanged worried looks, but accepted Tony's refusal and walked slowly to the lift.

Throwing a few files into his desk drawer, Gibbs stood and threw his jacket on and strode over to a still seated, and still working, Tony.

"Hey DiNozzo, I said we're done for the day. Come on, pack up."

Looking up with that polite indifference once more, Tony shook his head.

"It's ok Gibbs; I want get some more work done on this lead before I call it a day."

A haggard Jethro nodded slowly, wondering how it could only be seven pm.

This was shaping up to be the longest day of his life.

"Well, why don't you come on over for dinner tonight when you're done then? I've got steaks in."

Tony stood and grabbed a file to photocopy, before shaking his head once again.

"No thanks, I've got some pizza with my name on it."

Gibbs squeezed his eyes shut wearily for a second.

"Well…why don't you come over for a beer then? The games on ton-"

"Actually Gibbs" Tony interrupted sharply, "I've been thinking, and maybe its best if we maintain a more…professional relationship. You're my boss, and I'm your subordinate. Just you know, with annual reviews coming up and new postings popping up here and there, I think its best that a working relationship is where the line is drawn. That way, everyone knows where they stand."

He paused for a moment to take in a deep breath and indicated the file in his hand.

"Anyways, I better get back to it. Goodnight Gibbs, have a nice evening."

With that, he turned on his heel with a tight smile and strode in the copy room, shutting the door sharply behind him.

Anyone watching the CCTV of the bullpen would have been tempted to call emergency services at the sight of the infallible LJ Gibbs, standing rooted to the spot, his mouth agape.

For five straight minutes, he didn't move. He just stood. Stood and stared and the door that was hiding Tony from view. The man he thought of as a son…and the man who thought of him as an employer.

Biting down the bile and lump in his throat, he blinked rapidly.

He needed air, he desperately needed air.

He turned and bolted from the bullpen, not stopping for a second until he got to his car.

Laying his head down on the cold metal, he felt his stomach churn and his palms begin to take on a clammy hue.

Struggling somewhat, he managed to get into his car. Twenty minutes later, he had somehow got himself safely to his driveway.

Two minutes later saw him slumped on the sofa, with a much needed beer clutched in his hand.

One sip later and there came a rap on the door.

Thinking it might be Tony; he bounded up from the sofa and darted to the door.

His face fell dramatically when he saw it was none other than Tobias Fornell on his doorstep.

Leaving the door open, he slunk back to the couch, murmuring for the man to help himself to a beer.

Moments later, Fornell was perched on an opposite armchair, eying his long time friend with worry.

"You ok Jethro? You look…well, you like hell."

"Thanks" muttered Gibbs in irritation, "look, no offence Tobias but it's been a bit of a day and…"

Nodding his head, the FBI agent set down his beer and got to the point.

"I'm here about Agent Sacks Jethro, he-"

"Aw hell Tobias, I know alright? It shouldn't have happened, and it's been dealt with ok?"

Fornell's eyes widened immediately.

"Dealt with?" he squawked, knowing full well how Gibbs "dealt" with things.

Sighing, the NCIS agent nodded wearily.

"Yes. It won't happen again ok, now if that's all…"

Groaning loudly, Fornell stood in agitation.

"Damnit!"

Looking up in alarm, Gibbs also stood.

"What? What's the matter?"

Knowing how what he was about to say would impact his friend; Tobias took a deep wavering breath.

"Sacks set the whole thing up Jethro. It didn't sit right with me, so I had our analyst examine the tape. Those two on the footage, they're Sacks' friends. The whole goddamned thing was set up to get your boy into hot water. I…I'm sorry Jethro, but you've…well you've punished the kid for no reason…"

The only sound to be heard in the house was the clatter of Gibbs' beer bottle as it fell from his hand, and careered across the floor.

….

TBC

….

A/N: Ok, so I wasn't going to update so soon, but I couldn't help myself.

Hope you enjoyed! I know it's a bit angsty, but its super fun to write.

(I love Gibbs as much as the next person, so don't worry, I'll fix him and Tony…eventually!)


	17. Sins of the Father

The glint of the rain soaked road seemed oddly surreal to him as he drove in the otherwise inky blackness. His mind was in the odd position of being completely functional, and yet completely catatonic. He deftly steered the car down the empty roads, with no destination in mind.

The radio buzzed nonsensically in the background, the price of oil was up again. Another consistent rise. It had been rising steadily for months and months according to the broadcaster.

Oil. Oil was more consistent than him.

He grit his teeth as the first of what would be many berating thoughts began to trickle through his defensive state of dissociation.

He had promised himself, many, many years ago that he would be constant. He would be a constant in his people's lives, which by the nature of their work was filled with never ending variables.

As he caught a glance of himself in the rear view mirror, he groaned.

He was a constant alright.

A constant screw up.

How could he have messed up like this? The kid had sworn blind he hadn't done it…pleaded with him to believe him. And what he done? Basically called him a liar and…

Gibbs scrubbed a hand over his face as he thought of the completely unwarranted and undeserved punishment he'd dished out to his senior field agent.

He thought back on how Tony had not uttered a single word, let out a single whimper or relaxed one muscle in his back as he'd, as it transpires, unduly and unforgivably spanked him.

He suddenly took the next left at an abrupt gate and clenched the steering wheel tighter still.

He needed to talk to Tony, that much was a foregone conclusion. He needed to completely dispel with his no apologies rule, because frankly, in the current moment…he could only remember a handful of situations in his entire life where he felt as guilty and miserable as he felt right now.

But…he couldn't do it now. Not without…perspective.

Twenty or so minutes of relatively illegal driving later and the car swung into a familiar driveway.

Clambering out with haste, Gibbs wasted no time in rapping loudly on the handsome oak door.

He waited with a biting impatience for his knock to be answered.

Eventually, the door swung open a robed Ducky stood in the frame, clutching a glass of port.

A genial smile began to make its way across his face until he spied the look of pure and unadulterated torment adorning his old friends face.

Stepping back immediately, he opened the door further.

"Come Jethro" he murmured in concern.

The agent swept into the grand hall and careered straight towards the familiar kitchen that had housed the duo many times before.

Throwing himself down in his usual spot and dropping his head into his hands, he let out a great gutful of air.

Explaining to Ducky why he was so wound up was not going to be easy. The ME had a soft spot for Tony.

The doctor was soon in the kitchen, and with the aid of the bright lights he decided against offering bourbon and reached instead for the strongest coffee he possessed. Quickly putting it on to brew, he kept an appraising eye on his troubled looking friend. He knew that the man was building himself up to explain what was clearly troubling him, and he busied himself with the coffee to give him time.

Eventually he carried a steaming cup of coffee over to the paled man, and set it down in front of him.

Sitting down in his usual spot, he interlinked his fingers and rested his chin on them.

"Jethro?"

His voice was gentle and quiet and held an unspoken string of questions.

Gibbs took a moment, but eventually he raised his head and looked at his friend with tortured eyes.

"I punished him Duck" he all but whispered in a strangled tone.

It was quiet for a moment as the elder of the two digested this cryptic information.

Being a man of statistics, he quickly did the math of experience and came to the right conclusion.

"Anthony?"

The brief and jerky nod answered his query.

Ducky nodded to himself more than anything and continued to rack an appraising gaze over the younger of the two.

"Forgive me Jethro, but…I'm not sure I see the source of your woe. I mean to say dear fellow, I know how much you hate doing it, but it's not exactly that much of a rarity where young Anthony is concerned is it?"

Gibbs let out a strangled and oddly high pitched laugh that rang with a startling bitterness and Ducky felt his eyes widen in response.

"Jethro?" he repeated, starting to feel more than a bit nervous as he took in the oddly lightless eyes staring back at him.

"No…it's not that much of a rarity Duck" the younger of the two eventually managed to get out, "but…punishing him for no reason _is."_

The ME blinked.

"I'm afraid I don't understand?"

Gibbs took a deep breath and a deep glug of coffee and forced himself to start talking.

Five or so minutes later and the whole sorry tale had been recounted.

Ducky observed his friend with an x ray gaze for what seemed like an eternity before speaking.

"Quite the mess isn't it?"

Gibbs nodded mutely and stared miserably into his coffee.

"I've pretty much lost him Duck."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt his throat constrict slightly.

Ducky snorted angrily.

"Is he dying? Has the young man been knocking on deaths door, and I've been merely oblivious?"

Gibbs gaped.

"Well no, but-" he spluttered, before he was curtly interrupted.

"But nothing Jethro" Ducky interjected firmly. "Yes, there is no doubt you have made a most grievous error, and not one I condone in the slightest. You know better than to believe that Anthony would stand right in front of you and lie to your face. You also know better than to deal with any kind of a situation like that when you yourself are angry or frustrated."

The ME paused for breath.

"That being said, that boy ruddy well idolises you and you know it. That's why you're taking this so hard. Why _both_ of you are."

Gibbs gulped and nodded somewhat. He stared into his coffee for a moment before forcing himself to ask the question he needed the answer to, but was…well, afraid to get it.

"Why Duck…why would he?"

The elder man sighed, anticipating the question and being hesitant with the answer.

"Why did he let you punish him?"

The pained nod was hard to see.

"Why not refuse…punch me? Leave? Anything…"

The friend in him wanted to issue some platitude about why does one do anything, whilst the burgeoning psychological profiler in him demanded to be heard.

He warred with himself for a moment before inwardly groaning.

This was a time for transparency over coddling.

"His father."

The visible flinch that wafted over the table made the kindly doctor's ME ache, but he forced himself to continue.

"I'm afraid to say Jethro, that if I were to hazard a guess as to what was going through young Anthony's mind… you were not _you_ as you are, but rather some sort of representation of his father."

"You say he hardly reacted to the whipping?"

Gibbs just about managed a pained and partial nod.

Ducky hesitated for a moment in response, and weighed his options.

He decided to go with the cold hard truth.

I'm sorry my dear man but…it would appear that Anthony simply closed off his mind to the reality that was surrounding him. It is a form of…coping mechanism that I would daresay he learnt at a young age."

The younger of the two men let out a shuddering groan of despair as his brain caught up with the words his ears were ingesting, and buried his face into his hands.

"Oh god…what have I done?"

Ducky sighed sadly as the strangled words escaped his old friend.

Hoisting himself out of his chair, he crossed the distance between them in two strides and lay a hand on the uncharacteristically distraught man's shoulder.

"Jethro, you have made a terrible mistake. I won't sugar-coat it for you; you've most likely awakened demons in the boy that he has long since tried to suppress. But, and this is a very substantial but, my dear fellow, no one in infallible. Not even you. You need to go to Anthony, and lay all your cards on the table. It was an awful occurrence to have happened, but you never intended to harm the young man. You need to make him see that."

Gibbs looked up and saw the sincerity in his friend's eyes and forced himself to nod.

The time for self pity was over.

Glancing quickly at his watch he saw it was only nine p.m. and that as it was Friday there was very little chance the kid was asleep.

Forcing himself to his feet, he shot an uncharacteristically solemn look at the kindly ME.

"Thanks Duck" he said hoarsely, knowing the man would infer the words he couldn't say.

Nodding, the elder man draped an arm around the agent's shoulders and gently steered him towards the front door.

As the two stepped out into the night air, he smiled calmly.

"Go on now, go to him."

Gibbs nodded and a minute later his car was swinging out of the doctor's driveway.

He tried to remain calm as the distance between his car and Tony's apartment grew steadily smaller.

How the hell was he going to make this right? Could it even _be_ made right? He wasn't sure.

He suddenly stopped the car in a built up area of town, and returned ten minutes later with the kid's favourite Chinese food and a six pack of beer.

In less time than he would have perhaps liked, he was pulling into the apartment building's car lot.

Five minutes later saw the extremely nervous man knocking on the familiar door of his senior agent's apartment. He had knocked on this door a thousand times, hell he even had keys but he knew tonight wasn't the time to use them, and he had never felt such emotion waiting for it to open.

After what felt like an eternity, and after a thousand thoughts of "he's not going to let me in" the door suddenly creaked open.

An OSU sweatshirt and jeans clad Tony stood in the doorway, looking completely and yet politely indifferent at his visitor.

"Case Gibbs?"

Clutching the six pack and Chinese food, the elder man shook his head slightly sheepishly.

"No…no case. I was wondering if I could come in?"

Tony stared at him for a moment.

"Why?"

Gibbs swallowed.

"We need to talk."

Another clinical stare.

"Why?"

Gibbs swallowed again. All in all, this was not a good start.

"Please Tony" he replied quietly, letting a note of urgency ring in his voice.

The young man stared for a moment more, before stepping back and opening the door a fraction wider.

In relief, the elder of the two walked in quickly before the kid could change his mind.

He turned around in time to see Tony shut the door and stride in after him.

"Do you want some dinner?" Gibbs asked feebly, gesturing to the takeaway he'd placed on the counter, "it's your favourite."

"Not hungry" Tony replied curtly, "can I help you with something specific Gibbs? It's just, it's Friday night and I hadn't really planned on…company."

The elder agent nodded slowly and took a deep breath, before gesturing to the well worn sofa in the adjoining room.

"Maybe we should sit?"

The sandy brown head shook in the negative.

"I'm good with standing."

Nodding feebly Gibbs forced himself to open his mouth and say some of the hardest words he'd ever have to say.

"I was wrong, Tony."

The words seemed to echo around the small room before they registered in each man's brain.

"About?" came the cold reply.

Gibbs took in a deep gulp of air and decided to lay it all there as Ducky had told him to.

"About the whole Sacks fiasco. Fornell dropped by my house a few hours ago and told me that their analyst had examined the tape and found discrepancies. When he confronted Sacks he eventually admitted that the whole thing had been a set up, and that the people on that CCTV tape were his moron friends. The whole point as to look as close to you as possible and to a lesser extent, McGee. You were set up."

Gibbs took in another gulp of air and watched Tony's expression closely.

Nothing.

The kid barely reacted.

"Tony?"

Snapping out of his reverie, the younger man startled for a moment.

"I see."

Gibbs had to fight to resist the impulse to lay a hand on the boy's shoulder; he knew it definitely would not be appreciated.

"Tony, I-"

"You know Gibbs, it's getting late and I'm pretty tired. I'll see you at work on Monday ok."

The elder man groaned.

"Tony, please you have to listen to me-"

The cold, bitter laugh that seemed so alien to be coming from his eldest boy cut him short.

"Oh _I_ just _have_ to listen to _you?"_

Gibbs opened his mouth immediately, but was cut short.

"Got a newsflash for you, I don't _have_ to listen to shit. I thought I did; don't get me wrong I did think that as a _team_ , we should always listen to each other. But, as it turns out, I was mistaken."

Gibbs was beginning to feel a little nauseous.

"Tony. I made a terrible and horrible mistake. I didn't believe you when you were telling me the truth. I didn't wait until I'd calmed down from listening to Vance to talk to you about it. I screwed up. I screwed up badly. But…but that doesn't mean that you were mistaken."

His only answer was a derisive snort.

"I'm so sorry Tony" Gibbs practically whispered.

The young man looked at him with an almost tangible anger radiating in his bright green eyes.

"Oh well that's ok then" he snarled, "if the great and mighty Gibbs has _apologised_ everything is just a-ok."

The elder man winced.

"I don't think its ok Tony" he responded quietly "I should never have doubted you."

"Then why did you?"

The four words still carried a biting anger, but Gibbs immediately sensed the underlying hurt and sadness that accompanied them, and felt another stab of burning, acidic guilt.

"Because I'm a moron."

Tony snorted again.

"No arguments here."

"Tony, I-"

He was cut off, again.

"Funny how you're only a moron when it comes to me isn't it?" the young man bit out angrily, "I mean you had _no_ problem believing precious probie McPerfect when _he_ told you he had nothing to do with it."

Gibbs felt the bubbling pool of guilt in his stomach burst its banks and begin to spread throughout his whole body.

"I-"

"You just thought the frat boy from Ohio State was a much better bet for something like that than the boy wonder from MIT?"

Gibbs shook his head vehemently.

"No Tony, _no._ I jumped to the wrong conclusion, but _not_ because I think you're some immature frat boy, but because I saw previous pranks and put two and two together and got five."

A brief silence ensued as the younger man digested this.

"I _told_ you I was being framed."

The elder man nodded sadly.

"I know Tony; I know…I'm sorry, I can't believe I messed up so badly. If I could take it back I would, if I could do something to make it better I would, but I can't."

The young man stared at him steadily for a moment.

"We could swap" he stated evenly.

Gibbs looked back blankly.

"Swap?"

Nodding, the younger man was still radiating pure anger.

"Sure, you could hand me your belt and I could show _you_ what it feels like to be on the receiving end of it. Even the playing field."

The elder agent sighed.

"Tony, if I thought that would make you feel better I would give it to you in a heartbeat. But, it won't. It would make you feel even more confused than you are now."

"I'm not confused" the younger agent spat.

Gibbs smiled sadly.

"Sure you are. You've been punished for no reason, disbelieved and had your trust in me damaged. Then you've been left to stew about it on your own."

As he said the words, the team leader felt another kick in the gut.

"You been watching psych 101 or something?" Tony grunted uncomfortably.

"No" Gibbs responded softly, "I just know you, and I know what I've done

Tony looked over at him for a moment, resting his hands on the breakfast counter.

"You know, my father used to punish me for no reason all the time and not give a damn. There's no reason for you to be any different. I was a fool for thinking you should be."

Gibbs felt another stab of burning regret.

"Yes there is Tony" he answered quietly, "you know how important you are to me."

It was a testament to how guilty he felt that he was forcing himself to verbalise these emotions without the aid of any liquor.

Tony bit out a bitter laugh.

"Not important enough to trust obviously."

The elder man shook his head vigorously.

"I trust you Tony, I trust you as much as I've ever trusted another human being. The fact that I didn't believe you had nothing to do with trust, and everything to do with me being an old fool."

He got no response to that.

Tony merely reached out an unhooked two beers from the unopened six pack, and slid one across to the elder agent, before turning and heading into the living room to collapse on the sofa.

Hoping against hope that this was a good sign, Gibbs grabbed his beer and followed suit.

"What will happen to Sacks?" Tony asked abruptly as the elder agent sat down beside him.

Slightly thrown, Gibbs pondered for a moment.

"Probably a suspension I'd imagine" he said bitterly, "he'd be thrown out of the feds if I had my way."

Tony nodded to himself and lapsed into silence.

Gibbs watched him and saw the hurt in his eyes and just wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

"What are you thinking?" he asked eventually.

Tony didn't look at him, and continued to stare into his beer as he answered.

"As if you care."

Gibbs resisted the urge to pull the kid into a hug and closed his eyes briefly.

"Tony, of course I care. I always care."

The younger man took a large swig of beer before shaking his head.

"If you cared, you would have believed me."

Gibbs groaned to himself. Anthony DiNozzo Senior had left his son with a very skewed view of what the perfect father was.

One that never screwed up.

"Tony…do you believe that I cared about Kelly?"

The boy snapped his head up in surprise and forgot to even be angry as he answered.

"What? Of course I do."

"I made mistakes with Kelly, Tony. I didn't believe her one time when she told me she was sick and couldn't go to school. I forced her to go. A couple of hours later I get a call from the school telling me that she's fainted and being brought to hospital. Turns out she nearly burst her appendix. I didn't believe her when she told me her stomach hurt, and…. she hurt a hell of a lot more as a result."

Tony gaped at him and the elder man pushed on.

"Making mistakes does _not_ mean I don't care Tony. It means I'm human. I feel guilty as hell for what I did to you, and I would do anything to change it. I care son, please believe that I care."

Tony for his part couldn't believe his ears.

He had never heard Gibbs be so…un-Gibbs-ish.

"You care?" he choked out.

This time Gibbs couldn't help himself. He reached out and laid a hand on the kid's knee. To his intense relief, it wasn't shaken off.

"More than you could know son."

He withdrew his hand and the two lapsed into silence for another moment, before Tony got up and retrieved two more beers.

Handing one to Gibbs, he threw himself back down on the sofa.

"You prefer Tim."

Nearly choking on the swig he had taken, Gibbs turned to the younger man.

"What?"

"You believed Tim, therefore you prefer him."

Feeling distinctly hot under the collar, Gibbs shook his head for what felt like the hundredth time.

"That is _not_ true. You two are completely different, and I don't "prefer" either of you over the other."

Tony also shook his head, stubbornly.

"Tim's perfect. He's smart, funny, hardworking…"

"You're smart, funny and hardworking" Gibbs pointed out patiently.

Tony snorted.

"Sure thing."

Gibbs sighed sadly.

"I mean it Tony."

The younger man stared into his drink for a while longer.

"I'm still angry" he eventually stated.

"Of course you are" Gibbs agreed, "you have every right to be."

Tony nodded and stared into the distance.

"But…I guess I'm not _as_ angry."

The elder man felt an articulated lorry's weight lift off his shoulders with the seven words.

Maybe…just maybe he could mend his relationship with his eldest boy.

Before he could open his mouth, the kid's stomach growled.

Arching an eyebrow, he looked over at him.

"Still not hungry?"

The kid grinned somewhat sheepishly, and the sight of it nearly made Gibbs faint with relief.

He hadn't seen that grin in just two days, but it had felt like an eternity.

"I'll heat up the Chinese" he offered, and was soon busying himself in the familiar kitchen.

Returning five minutes later with a steaming plate of chow mein, he chuckled inwardly as the green eyes lit up anticipatively.

There was silence that was only interrupted by the clinking of cutlery as Tony scarfed down his dinner.

After taking a final bite and a large glug of beer to wash it down, Tony settled back down into the sofa.

"So…what happens now?" he asked quietly, picking at the label on his bottle.

Gibbs looked over at him in confusion.

"What do you mean Tony?"

The kid squirmed slightly in his chair.

"Well…I mean…when I mess up….are you uhh…"

Gibbs closed his eyes briefly. That was quite the question, and one he wasn't sure he knew the answer to.

"I don't know Tony. I failed you, I don't know if it's in your best interests that we deal with things like this anymore. I can't risk hurting you again."

The green eyes that had shown signs of their usual glimmer, instantly clouded over at his words.

The young man's jaw tightened and he looked off into the distance.

"Tony?"

The eyes flashed.

"I get it. You're not bothered anymore. Makes sense, gives you more time to give to Tim if nothing else."

Gibbs blinked.

He stared for a moment before realisation set in.

Kid thought he was giving up on him,

Setting his beer down, he reached out and placed a firm hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Look at me."

Tony resolutely stared into the distance.

"Look at me this _second_ Tony" Gibbs ordered, allowing his "boss" tone to ring strongly through.

It did the trick.

The young man instinctively looked at the elder agent.

"If I thought it would keep you safe, keep you protected… I would wear you out every single day. I mean that. I just…I just _meant_ that if you needed things to be more…NCIS approved for a while, then we could do that. There are other ways to discipline you Tony. The reason I tan your backside is because it's just between us, quick, efficient and then it's forgotten about. You know how I feel about paper punishments, but I will use them if you need me to. Without hesitation. Understand?"

The team leader took a deep breath and a deeper draught as he waited for Tony to respond.

"I don't want paper punishments Gibbs."

The elder, who was really starting to hate the sound of his surname, of the two studied the younger for a moment before opening his mouth.

"You're sure Tony? You're absolutely sure?"

The green eyes met his.

"I'm sure. I…I still trust you."

Gibbs exhaled sharply at the words, the staggering bout of relief that surged through him rendering him speechless for a moment.

"Thank you Tony" he muttered quietly, not trusting himself to say any more.

The kid nodded, and resumed picking at the beer label he had nearly torn to shreds.

"Any chance I can offset this as a credit note for the next time?" he suddenly asked, with a strong ghost of usual roguish grin.

Gibbs snorted.

This was more like it.

"Not a chance. I'm not having you running out of a stake-out to chat up some blonde twenty something because you think you can get away with it."

Tony frowned.

"That's stereotyping."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah."

Tony suddenly reached for his pager and frowned.

"Something wrong?"

Tony pulled a face.

"Yeah, my month of on call starts tomorrow but I haven't got the confirmation page or codes yet."

Gibbs reached into his pocket and extracted his own beeper.

"I did."

Tony stared.

"Huh? How did that mix up happen? You don't _do_ on call."

Gibbs smiled.

That was true. But he had phoned the office on the way to Tony's and made arrangements.

"I took your on call."

Tony gaped.

"What?" he spluttered, "why?"

"Because, if Mike were here Tony he would have worn me out for jumping to conclusions. You know how you feel better after a while when I've spanked you, when you don't feel guilty anymore?"

Tony nodded.

"I need to feel better too."

Silence once again ensued as Tony struggled to find words.

"You don't need to do that" he murmured eventually, "you didn't do it on purpose."

"I still did it" Gibbs replied firmly.

"But you despise on call" the younger man argued.

"That's the point Tony" the elder man responded patiently.

His tone brooked no argument and silence once again descended.

He checked his watch as his eyes began to itch and felt his eyes widen in surprise as he saw it was approaching midnight.

Throwing down the last dregs of his drink, he rummaged around for his cell.

"It's getting late, I should call a cab" he explained as Tony looked at him questioningly.

He punched in a few numbers before the kids hand snaked in and shut the cell with a snap.

"Just crash on the couch" he offered quietly.

Gibbs looked at him in surprise.

"Really?"

It was Tony's turn to sigh.

"Yeah. I mean…it's going to take a while for things to get back to normal between us, but…I'm willing to work at it, if you are."

Gibbs blinked.

"I'm willing to do just whatever the hell it takes son."

Tony smiled the first true and pain free smile he'd seen since the whole debacle unfolded.

"What happened to that Marine stoicism Gibbs?" he teased.

The team leader rolled his eyes.

"Watch the cheek you."

Tony merely snorted and got up to fetch spare bed clothes.

Returning, he set them down on the edge of the sofa and stood slightly awkwardly.

"I'm gonna hit the hay now as well Gibbs, going for a run in the morning."

Gibbs nodded, and decided, after a brief moment to take the plunge.

"Can I come with?"

Tony looked at him steadily for a moment before answering, sending the Marines heart into overdrive.

"Sure you can keep up old man?"

Gibbs laughed, more in relief than anything.

Standing he began to make up the couch, throwing a "I was running track when you were still eating sand kid" over his shoulder.

Finishing up, he righted himself and looked over at the boy who was loitering in the doorway.

"7am ok then?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Sounds good."

Tony crossed over to the couch to fix the sheet to the background of Gibbs' rolling eyes.

Also righting himself, he found himself face to face with a very tired looking Jethro.

"Goodnight then Gibbs" he said quietly.

Gibbs had to fight with all his strength against his paternal instincts of pulling the kid in for a hug.

"Goodnight Tony" he murmured.

The young agent nodded and turned in the direction of his bedroom.

He seemed to be suddenly conflict stricken and paused in the middle of the room.

"Tony?"

The kid turned around and stared silently at a rapidly growing concerned Gibbs.

Then all of a sudden he started across the room and landed himself back in front of the team leader.

"You meant what you said? That you like me and Tim and the same?"

Gibbs stared into the green eyes for a moment before shaking his head in the negative.

"No son…I don't like you and Tim the same."

Pain shot over his handsome young face and he turned to leave, before Gibbs deftly caught him by the elbow and held him steady.

"I love you and Tim the same."

Both men stood stock still for a moment.

Tony was every bit as surprised as Gibbs that the closed off man had made such an admission with the aid of only a few beers.

The young agent suddenly found himself putting all his negative emotions on hold for just a moment, the moment it took for him to throw himself into Gibbs' chest for a hug.

Startled, but recovering within an instant Gibbs wrapped his arms around the kid and thanked God their relationship whilst certainly not being fully healed, was certainly on the mend.

"Goodnight… Boss."

A/N: Please let me know what you all think! I'm finished my exams now so I'm back into full writing swing, hence the longer than usual update. Also, I decided against having Ducky punish Gibbs because their relationship, to me anyway, is too equal and linear for that to work.

Thanks so much for reading!


	18. Simply Sibling Rivalry

Gibbs smiled to himself discreetly as Tony stood before him giving him an excitable sitrep on their latest case. Two months or so had passed since their relationship had been challenged by his error, and with careful care the first and second in command had fallen firmly back into their old routine. The team leader hadn't felt such staggering relief in many, many years.

However, the discreet smile was soon wiped off his discreet face, as Tony was interjected.

"The spending patterns you asked for Boss, broken down by age grouping" Tim said stiffly, pushing past DiNozzo slightly to drop the file on Gibbs' desk.

The elder of the three sighed heavily as he caught the glaring look the two shot between them as Tim turned on his heel and strode back to his desk.

Whilst his and Tony's relationship was back on track, the whole sorry incident seemed to have brought previously suppressed, and intense jealousy between his second and third in command to the fore.

 _Crashing_ to the fore.

DiNozzo finished up his report, and he too strode back to his own desk, exchanging another scathing look with McGee.

Sitting down, Gibbs scrubbed a hand across his face.

The now familiar feeling of guilt began to stir in his stomach.

Believing Tim, when he hadn't believed Tony had started this whole thing off. Whilst the underlying fuse was there, he sure as hell was the catalyst.

DiNozzo had been giving McGee the cold shoulder since that very day, and showed no signs of relenting.

At first, Tim had been confused and hurt. He had tried to talk to Tony, only to be angrily rebuffed every single time.

After a while, his confusion turned to indifference and his hurt to anger.

When Tony had rubbed it in his face _continually_ that he and Gibbs were going to the big game of the season, _alone,_ and without inviting him, his anger had turned bitter.

They all knew by now that Tony had been innocent of the Sacks fiasco, and the logical and sensible part of Tim knew that their boss was just trying to make it up to DiNozzo, but…the logical side of him flew out the window as the burning jealously built up in him.

It was _always_ the same.

He was _always_ left out.

Because he didn't like… _building_ stuff or kicking some…some stupid _ball_. Because he wasn't perfectly cool like perfect Tony freaking DiNozzo.

It wouldn't have even _occurred_ to Gibbs and his precious Tony to invite him. Not that they ever did of course. He was never invited to help with that stupid boat or to watch the game with a beer.

Throwing a file down with more force than was necessary, he shot another seething look across the bull pen and the senior field agent, who looked up in time to return it with a maddeningly smug smile.

Dropping his head to the privacy of his own file, Tony also seethed.

McConceited just _had_ to barge in whilst he was updating Gibbs on the case with his "oh _look_ at me, I'm a genius" math skills. Why did he always have to try and show him up with how smart he was? He might as well go around with MIT graduate tattooed on his forehead, and why did Gibbs always treat him so _gently?_

If _he_ said something stupid or did something stupid, Gibbs had no trouble rapping him upside the head.

But not his precious _Timmy._ Oh no, he was a delicate flower and had to be carefully handled

Tony snorted.

What a _loser_.

Gibbs ground his teeth in frustration as he was bathed in the tension between his two boys.

He'd tried gentle cajoling.

Didn't work.

He'd tried _less_ gentle cajoling.

Didn't work.

He'd tried dispensing with cajoling.

Didn't work.

He'd finally tried yelling.

Also, didn't work.

Sitting back in his chair he stared blankly at the files Tim had left on his desk. He was stumped. His admonishments of his two boy's bickering had merely transformed the outright discourse into subtle, sneering jibes here and there and a whole lot of _looks._

 _Like two sixteen year old girls_ he thought to himself despairingly.

He'd tried talking to Tim on his own two weeks or so ago; to explain that Tony didn't _mean_ the way he'd been acting and that he shouldn't take any notice of the senior agent's odd behaviour.

To his alarm, it _certainly_ didn't have the effect he'd hoped for.

Tim had seemed to stiffen almost at his words, and his eyes had seemed to close off before offering a forced nod and murmuring about having to get back to work.

Jolting out his reverie to the sound of his cell beeping angrily, he was on his feet a few seconds later.

"New body, down by the harbour. Gear up."

The two agents jumped to their feet and grabbed their go bags. Such was their haste that they all but collided in the narrow walkway between their two desks.

"Watch where you're going McMoron" Tony snarled immediately, as he pushed past the junior agent.

Gibbs caught the look of raw hurt that passed over Tim's face, before it changed to brooding anger.

Enough was enough.

As Tony walked passed him, the elder of the three hesitated for just a moment before issuing the first headslap he'd given his second in command since the whole…fiasco.

Over the surprised yelping, he herded the two agents into the elevator throwing Tony a stern look.

Turning to jab the elevators button in exasperation, he just caught the smug little smile Tim shot at a scowling DiNozzo.

Closing his eyes wearily, he willed Ziva to finish up her short jaunt in chemical weapons training. At least she seemed to break the tension in the van when all three men were cooped up together.

Half an hour of a mixture of tense silences and barbed conversation later, and the MCRT van trundled into the latest crime scene.

Clambering out quickly, Gibbs barked firm orders at his two agents and set off to talk to the first responding officers.

Mooching out of the van, both Tim and Tony set off on their respective instructions, with Tony laughing quietly as Tim stumbled somewhat in a pothole.

"Way to go Timmy" he sneered whilst he uncapped the camera lens, "did you run track in High School, with skills like that?"

McGee flushed and shot the senior field agent a glare, before turning to extract a notepad from his bag.

There was silence for a while, as the two agents worked steadily side by side, Tony taking pictures and Tim taking notes.

Gibbs was deeply engrossed in conversation with a police sergeant over by the docks, trying to piece together the recent development in the case.

And fight for their ongoing jurisdiction.

Stooping down lower to photograph a potential tread mark in the wet mud, Tony accidentally stepped on McGee's foot.

Hard.

Squawking, the junior agent snarled and pushed the senior agent off his pained digits with a growl.

"What is your _problem_ you absolute moron?" he spat, hopping on one foot as the pain began to subside.

Tony's initial and instinctive response to apologise for the genuine accident, died in his throat at the tones being directed towards him by the one person whom he could quite gladly punch in the jaw.

Feeling his lips curl up in a cold smile that was not characteristic of him, DiNozzo merely arched an eyebrow.

"So _sorry_ about that McLoser, it's just that you're so insignificant; I didn't even _see_ you there."

Tim straightened up, and clenched his jaw.

"Aren't you a little _old_ to be so jealous?" he shot back, feeling two months worth of frustration begin to rise up in his stomach.

The chilling laugh that filled the air was enough to raise the hairs on McGee's neck.

"Me?" Tony spluttered through his artificial laughter, "jealous of _you?"_

He laughed some more with a dangerous tinge to the forced joviality.

"People like _me_ aren't jealous of people like _you_ McPipsqueak" he explained callously.

The simmering anger that had been building inside Tim for the past eight weeks seemed to descend itself in that moment, in a red mist of rage over his eyes.

"Oh yeah?" he returned coolly, "so you _aren't_ jealous that Gibbs basically decided you were an untrustworthy, lying, immature jerk then? And you _aren't_ jealous that he believed _me_ on the spot about Sacks? That's _not_ what these past two months of your four year old tantrums have been about?"

The pleasant summer breeze that separated the two men seemed suddenly a hell of a lot colder.

"What did you just say?" Tony bit out between clenched teeth.

Tim looked back at him with a cold smile of his own.

"I _said_ how does it feel to be the screw up? Then again, I suspect you've been used to that position all your life right?"

The air took another distinct chill in temperature, whilst both agents stared at each other with pent up anger and dislike.

"Me?" Tony eventually spat out, "aren't you the one who's own _father_ hasn't made the time to see him in like five _years?_ I guess you could say _he_ thinks _you're_ a screw up. _"_

Tim stared for what seemed like the longest moment, his heart beating frantically against his rib cage, as completely oblivious as Tony was that they were in the middle of a crime scene.

" _My_ father?" he eventually croaked out, "what about _yours_ Tony? The only time he makes time to see _you_ is when he needs money because he's a big a screw up as _you,_ or… oh yeah…when he's being arrested for _murder._ Is that why you hang on so hard to _daddy Gibbs'_ leg? Abandonment issues? _"_

The air plummeted right into the minus figures.

Over at the docks, Gibbs raised his head and focused his glance just in time to see both his youngest and eldest boy launch themselves at each other, fists raised.

…..

TBC

…..


	19. Junior Jealousy

Tim spat the last of the rusty blood out of his mouth and winced as the hold on his ear tightened further.

Tony held the cuff of his shirt up to his spurting eyebrow in an attempt to stem the blood flow, as he bore an identical wince as the hold on _his_ ear tightened further.

Holding the two apart with an arms width, Gibbs was visibly pulsating with fury.

He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a sort of strangled hiss and both boys looked at the man in intense alarm.

When he _did_ speak, it was in the low, gravelly voice that both agents' instantly recognised.

The "you're going to wish you had never been born" voice.

"Get… in the van, _now_."

With that, the elder of the three gave both agents' ear a painful tweak before releasing them. He watched them walk, with eyes so narrow they were positively slit like, as fast as they could towards the MCRT transport, not looking at each other, and with a galaxy of space between them.

When the two doors of the van quietly snapped shut obscuring the two from his sight, Gibbs took his first normalised breath of the last five or so minutes.

He quickly re-scanned the amassed police presence at the scene, he could see only one person who appeared to have seen the whole…incident.

Squaring his shoulder, he quickly set back off across the docks.

Damage control was now crucial. One call to Vance about this and both agent's were looking at a two week suspension.

Coming to an abrupt halt in front of what he immediately gathered to be a seasoned, no-nonsense DC detective, Gibbs extended a hand.

Accepting the handshake, the man tilted his head slightly and to the agent's intense relief smiled a small, knowing smile.

"Got two boys myself, I know how it is. You tell me this is going to be dealt with, and I'll tell anyone who asks that both those kids tripped over their own feet."

The look of sheer relief that passed over Gibbs' face made the detective chuckle.

"Thank you detective" he murmured fervently "I can promise you, that those two… won't be tripping over anything again _any_ time soon."

Chuckling, the slightly older of the two nodded and slapping a friendly hand on Gibbs' shoulder, he stepped away to deal with a call from his own team.

Counting his blessings, he strove to get a handle on his temper and made his way towards the van.

Wrenching the driver's door open, he threw himself behind the wheel.

Running another racking gaze over the silent and unwillingly side-by-side DiNozzo and McGee he was once again satisfied that neither of them were injured to the point of worry.

He firmly ignored the wide eyed, horrified looks that were firmly planted on each of the boys' faces.

Kicking the van into action, he pealed out of the docks at a relatively illegal pace and was soon making the way back to the Navy Yard.

His intense attempt to keep his anger in check was unwisely interrupted by Tony as he made a rather severe left turn.

"Boss…look-"

Increasing his grip on the wheel, Gibbs' jaw instantly tightened.

"The next one of you to speak…unless directly spoken to, will be spending the next month riding a desk."

This heinous announcement hung in the air for several moments as both agents' struggled to digest it.

Silence was restored from that moment on, as both Tony and Tim wisely kept their mouths shut, whilst communicating only through scathing and loathsome glances between them when Gibbs couldn't see.

Well, when they _thought_ Gibbs couldn't see.

Several tense minutes passed, and the van eventually squealed into the navy yard.

Killing the engine, the elder of the three agents took a deep breath, and his low voice filled the cab without a glance towards the two younger men.

"Get out. Go in the back entrance. Go the nearest bathroom and clean yourselves up. Anyone asks, you were injured chasing a perp. You have fifteen minutes to wash up, and be at my car. Move."

Tony and Tim's stomachs instantly clenched at the dangerously calm tone, but both had the sense to clamber out of the van immediately and stride round the building to the lesser used service entrance.

Once again, the two exchanged not a syllable as they made their way into the building. Both men spun on their heels as soon as they were inside, and outside the scope of Gibbs' sniper vision. Tony took the stairs, and Tim stormed into the elevator.

Tim got off on second, knowing Tony would be too lazy to take an additional flight.

Within a few moments of each other, both agents' were hastily washing the now dried and crusty blood from their faces, wincing as the warm water made contact with the sensitive areas.

In his chosen bathroom, Tony stared at his burst eyebrow in incredulity.

How the hell did the runt learn to punch like that?

Whilst downstairs, in his chosen bathroom, Tim was staring at his split lip in anger.

What were the odds that Gibbs would care that it was his beloved DiNozzo who threw the first punch?

Grimacing, he dried off his face.

Even the most addicted of addictive gamblers wouldn't take that bet.

Sighing, Tim saw that he had exactly two minutes to be at Gibbs' car. Throwing down the paper towel, he hightailed it out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

He was already dead, but maybe if he was on time for his execution, it would be slightly less painful.

Striding back out into the yard, his teeth clenched when he saw Tony resting against the back door of Gibbs' car.

Of course he would get there first, Mr "Phys Ed Major."

Tim scoffed internally.

A lot of good Tony's major would do him when he didn't have his adoptive daddy around to protect his inadequacies from Vance.

Nearing the car, McGee smirked again.

Tony might be Gibbs' favourite, but it was obvious which one of them the Director preferred.

Watching the cause of his current situation walk towards him with a stupid smile all over his stupid face, Tony bit his lip in an attempt to keep his hands to himself.

He even _walked_ as if he were the fast man on earth to master the feat.

Mr "Magnifico MIT" had to be _the_ most annoying person he'd ever had the misfortune to meet.

As Tim came closer, Tony bit his lip further.

Gibbs was going to _kill_ him for this, for causing any harm to his sensitive and delicate little favourite.

Didn't matter that the egomaniac had been asking for it, oh no.

Tim could say what he liked and get away with it, but the minute anyone snaps back…all hell breaks loose.

The two exchanged glares that lifelong feuding cobras couldn't manage as Tim reached, and also leant against the car.

The heated silence was tenser than the loudest of interrogation rooms as the two men stood stiff and still, neither of them willing to admit that each of their rigid stances was beginning to take its toll on their respective muscles.

Ten or so minutes passed in complete and utter silence, with each agent maintaining their taut position, and refusing to move an inch.

Their stances were quickly dissolved however, by the eventual arrival of an alarmingly _angrier_ looking Gibbs.

Shooting the two of them a glare that would sour milk, he unlocked the car.

"Get up and get in, that car is not a damn resting post for you two."

The snapping tone sent them scrambling to remove their bodies from the vehicle, and to throw themselves in the back seat.

This was one occasion, where demanding shot gun was high up on either agent's list of priorities. Tempering their loathed proximity, they each sat as close as was physically possible to their respective doors.

Seeing this, Gibbs already intense ire increased further.

Mexico.

He should have stayed in goddamned Mexico.

With this thought rattling around his wearied brain, he inched his car out of the lot and roared it onto the main road.

No one spoke in the near half hour it took to get to Gibbs' home, and neither of the boys' expected to be driven to _their_ homes. Despite this, they each groaned to themselves as the car pulled into their second home of sorts.

Once again killing the engine, Gibbs wasted no time in turning around in the front seat.

"Living room, now."

With that, he swept from the car and into the house before either Tony or Tim could effectively disentangle themselves from their respective seatbelts.

Tony led the way, not bothering to hold the front door open for the younger man behind him, who scowled when it practically rebounded into his face.

They made it into the living room, to the sight of Gibbs standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips.

Jerking his head to the well worn couch, he arched an eyebrow.

Both agents melted to the sofa, and sat down beside each other tentatively.

Tim instantly began to fidget uncomfortably under their boss' piercing gaze, whilst Tony stared resolutely at his feet.

"Eyes up."

Both young men reluctantly levelled their eye contact and winced at the obvious fire dancing in the blue eyes appraising them.

Pinching his nose for just a second, Gibbs returned his hand to his hip and took a deep breath.

"You let me down out there today."

The few simple words, in the restrained tone that dripped with disappointment made both boys' flinch.

" _More importantly_ , and more to the point, you let each _other_ down. Not to mention yourselves."

At this point, Gibbs began to pace back and forth in front of the silent agents.

"I'm going to hear each of you out on this, Tim first. Tony, go to your room."

Without a word or a backwards glance, Tony jumped up from the sofa and within seconds was making short work of the stairs.

The sounds of his and Tim's bedroom door snapping shut drifted downstairs.

Sitting down on the foot rest in front of the sofa, Gibbs eyed McGee appraisingly.

The kid looked terrified.

Rubbing a wearied hand over his eyes, the elder man sighed.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm absolutely furious, but… I'm calm. I'll be fair, you understand?"

His youngest boy nodded slowly, fidgeting and squirming in his seat.

"Explain."

The short order was simple, to the point, and a four year old could have followed it. Tim however floundered, badly.

He opened his mouth, then he closed it. Then he half opened it, before firmly closing it again.

Gibbs waited with patience that none of his ex wives would have believed him capable of.

Eventually, the young man's voice began to reverberate around the room.

Though it was very short lived.

"Tony…he's…he's different, with me anyway."

Gibbs nodded, and felt a slight pang of guilt.

He should have intervened sooner.

His "boys will be boys" and "let them sort it out amongst themselves" approach had backfired.

Badly.

Tim hesitated, but opened his mouth again under the expectant gaze.

"Ever since uhh…well since…see, since the…"

The kid snapped his mouth shut again, and looked up despondently. Despite how angry Gibbs was he smiled a small smile to himself that was tinged with sadness. He knew the young man was trying to tell him that Tony had changed since the Sacks fiasco, but he didn't want to bring it up in case it hurt him.

"Since I messed up with him…and not with you?" he supplied quietly, arching his famous brow.

Tim shot him a deeply apologetic look, but nodded in the affirmative.

"Yes boss."

Gibbs nodded, feeling the familiar bout of misery that accompanied that incident stir inside him.

"Go on" he instructed.

Biting his lip, Tim fidgeted some more before obeying.

"It's like he _hates_ me…he blames me because you didn't believe him. At first…at first I was uhh…upset you know, but then…after a while, I just got mad. I mean, how is it _my_ fault that erm…that that happened? It's not like _I_ set the thing up, it was Sacks!"

The elder of the two watched quietly as Tim took a deep breath before continuing.

"So anyway, it's been pretty rough between us for the last couple of weeks. I guess tension's just been building and building, and today…it just exploded I guess."

Looking up in the clear hope that his explanation time was over, Tim groaned when he accurately gauged from his boss' face that this was _not_ the case.

"What was said today, what set this off?" Gibbs asked quietly, knowing it must have been pretty bad for the two to descend into fisticuffs, and therefore he needed to know.

The instant flush that crossed his youngest boy's face confirmed this need to know.

When he didn't reply, and his fidgeting increased tenfold, Gibbs sighed.

"Answer me."

The fidgeting stopped for a moment.

"It wasn't just me! It was _him_ too!" Tim all but exploded, looking angrily into the elder man's face.

Gibbs rubbed a hand across his face.

"I didn't _say_ it was just you."

Tim snorted.

"Yeah, well you didn't need to. We both know damn well who you're going to blame."

A moment passed, where even a pin wouldn't dare to drop for fear of being heard throughout the whole house.

Gibbs positively gaped.

Of the two boys and the two girls, Tim was always the faultlessly polite and restrained one.

To hear him say _what_ he just and in the _way_ he just said it left the older man speechless for a moment.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he spluttered.

There seemed to be a sudden and not so subtle change in the way the kid was looking at him, not to mention his stiffening posture.

Was it coldness he saw in those bright eyes?

When he spoke again, it was in a scathing tone so unlike his own that Gibbs was in danger of losing his jaw to the ground once more.

"I think it's pretty obvious" Tim replied, managing to sound cool and heated at the same time.

The elder agent stared.

"You think _what's_ pretty obvious?"

Tim stared right back, incredulity etched on every line of his face.

"Are you serious?"

Gibbs blinked again.

"Watch the tone Tim, you're in enough trouble" he warned, feeling completely bewildered.

Laughing coldly, the young man merely shook his head in derision.

"Naturally."

Gibbs' head was beginning to ache with the strain of keeping up with whatever the hell was going on.

"Tim" he began, forcing his voice to stay level, "tell me what the hell you're talking about, and lose the attitude while you're at it."

The kid looked at him steadily for a moment, before reacting.

Explosively.

"It's hardly a _secret_ that you prefer your golden boy up there over me. You…you take him on camping trips, invite him to work on your dumb boat, to go to games…and me? Oh yeah, you invite _me_ to fix your computer when you've busted it with a bat."

Gibbs stared, and stared, before attempting to open his mouth, but he was cut off.

"Are you _really_ going to pretend that you didn't _know_ that he was making my life hell for the past two months? I mean you two have spent _all_ that extra time together, and he never once mentioned that he hates my guts? Is that why you let him treat me like dirt, because he cried to you about me one night over steak and sawdust?"

Gibbs was positively gagging on the air that was whistling through his tonsils as he continued to gawp at his younger boy.

"I don't know why I'm surprised. I mean, you two _always_ leave me out. I'm great if you need an additional tax return, or if you need your cell updated, but other than its..Tim? Tim who? And then you _wonder_ why I didn't come to you, and tell you what was going on. I'm assuming that was going to be your next question anyways. Well, long story short, what would be the _point?"_

The former marine blinked through his whirling thoughts manically in an attempt to address that question, but he needn't have bothered.

"There would be _no_ point, that's what. I mean _you_ alreadycame to _me_ and basically told me to put up with his nonstop toddler tantrums. That your poor, _precious_ Tony was just going through a rough patch, and that I ought to just suck it up and take one for the _team_ basically. Well, change of plan, I punched him ok? He punched me first, but that probably won't matter to _you_."

Silence then descended, as Tim's chest heaved with the effort of his outburst and as he sat with his fists clenched in his lap, and his face heavily flushed.

It wasn't often in life that LJ Gibbs was completely stunned, but damnit to hell if this wasn't one of those times.

As he looked at the emotionally wrought state of the kid in front of him, he began to feel mildly nauseous.

The kid was right.

He _didn't_ ask him to do the things that he asked Tony to do, but _not_ for the reasons he thought.

As for his handling of how Tony had been treating the younger man, he felt his _own_ face flush.

He'd gotten it as wrong as it would possible to be.

He'd let Tim be treated like a punching bag, and he'd failed to step in and resolve the undue anger Tony was harbouring against the kid.

He grit his teeth in despair as he realised how much hurt Tim would have had to take before he would blow up like he had just done.

A hell of a lot, that was how much.

All of a sudden, Tim was talking again.

"Look, can we just get whatever it is you're going to do to me over and done with, so I can go home. You probably want the house free anyway so you can assure your little prince that I got what I deserved, and nothing bad will ever happen to his pretty little face again."

The bitterness in the kid's voice tore at Gibbs' heart, and before he knew what he was doing he was on his feet.

Tim looked up apprehensively at his approach, clearly expecting a head slap or worse.

He was more than a little surprised, and perhaps that was why he didn't put up that much of a fight, when he found himself being pulled up from the couch by his elbow, and into his boss' arms.

Breathing in the familiar smell of sawdust, he relaxed instinctively for a moment, before regaining control of himself and beginning to struggle.

Gibbs' response to this was to merely hold the kid tighter to him, wrapping his arms around the slender frame.

He knew enough of his younger boy to know that this was the quickest way to get him to calm down.

And sure enough, after a few more moments of squirming and muffled "let go of me's", Tim's torso began to relax and his fighting stopped.

Gibbs held the boy to him for what seemed like an hour before he was ready to let him go.

When he did, he was pained to see the look of absolute confusion in his eyes.

Draping an arm around his shoulder, he gently steered him back to the couch and he himself returned to his original perch.

Closing his eyes briefly, he pulled himself together.

"Tim…have I ever lied to you?"

The junior agent was so surprised by this question, he forgot to be angry as he answered truthfully.

"No boss."

Nodding thankfully, Gibbs reached out and placed a hand on the young man's knee, and to his intense relief it wasn't shaken off, though it was shot an indeterminable look.

"I need you to listen to me, can you do that? Just for a minute, and then I promise you can say whatever it is you want to say, ok?"

The jerky nodding of the sandy brown head let him know that it was ok.

Just about.

"I'm sorry Tim" Gibbs started simply, noting the look of shock that passed over the young man's face.

"What you said…about me doing things with Tony, games and working on the boat…that's true, I've never asked you along."

The eyes across from his darkened as he spoke, but he ploughed on resiliently.

"But I swear Tim, it is _not_ because I wouldn't enjoy hanging out with you. It's just…I know you don't like those kinds of things, and-"

He was cut off.

"Still would have been _nice_ if you acknowledged I was you know… _alive."_

Gibbs carried on, feeling another little stab in his heart.

"Tim…I really _am_ sorry, I never meant for you to feel like I was excluding you…it's just, well…it's just you're so _clever_ son, and I don't know what kind of things you _could_ enjoy doing with me."

It was true. As much as he cared for Tony and Tim equally, he just had more in _common_ with DiNozzo. Half of the stuff McGee came out with, he had zero clue as to its' meaning. It was like having a genius kid in the house that you couldn't help with their homework after the third grade.

The younger man gaped for a moment.

"You have no problem hanging out with Abby, and she's clever" he spat.

Gibbs nodded sadly.

"I know that Tim, it's just…well, I guess I didn't think you'd have fun with me, and you've never really asked to come along on camping trips, and I know how you react to poison ivy and…aw hell, son, I'm sorry. I handled all of this badly, I had no idea you felt how you do, I promise you that."

Tim stared back miserably.

"You prefer Tony" he replied simply, and Gibbs felt the déjà vu of the same words Tony had spoken about Tim hit him full force in the chest.

Deciding to answer now, as he did then, he increased his hold on the kid's knee.

"Tim…are you listening to me?"

The boy nodded, slowly.

"You know hard it is for me to you know… _talk_ about things and stuff like that…?"

Gibbs tried not to think about the fact that it had been easier to do this with Tony, because he'd been mildly lubricated with beer.

The kid rolled his eyes despite himself.

The whole _world_ knew how hard it was for Gibbs to acknowledge he was human.

The older agent nodded, and took a deep breath.

"Good, then I'm going to tell _you_ the exact same thing I told Tony, ok?"

The head bobbed up and down yet again.

"I…I love you and Tony the _exact_ same."

It was McGee's turn to stare

And stare.

And stare some more.

"Wh…what?" he eventually stammered, looking at the silver haired man in shock.

Gibbs smiled a small smile.

"Come on son, use that brain of yours…I've had literally over a hundred agents in my command over the years. There's only ever been four that I don't _really_ think of as agents."

Tim continued to gape.

Using this silence, Gibbs continued.

"I didn't realise how it must have seemed to you Tim. I thought that dragging you to things you didn't like would be unfair, and like I said, I don't know if there's anything _you_ like that I could understand…but I'd be happy to tag along to one of your uhh…commicordians if you'd have me."

McGee stared for another moment, his eyes full of surprise, before answering.

" _Comic Con"_ he corrected quietly.

Gibbs held up his free hand apologetically.

"Comic Con then" he murmured gently.

Tim nodded, more to himself than anything.

"You mean that?" he asked suddenly, his eyes brimming with uncertainty, "that me and Tony… are the same?"

Gibbs smiled internally.

They were more alike than they could ever know.

"I don't say things I don't mean Tim" he said simply.

McGee nodded once more, and then a new flush flashed across his face.

"I'm sorry" he muttered, looking up anxiously, "I was…out of line."

Gibbs reached out, and gently rapped the kid upside the head.

"No. You weren't, you were upset, and I should have seen it. I'm the one who's sorry Tim, but next time…if there's something that I'm doing or not doing that's bothering you, you're _going_ to tell me. Yes?"

Tim smiled a "Tim" smile, and Gibbs' heart began to return to a normal beat at the sight of it.

"Yes boss."

Ruffling his hair, the older agent smiled. It would take a bit of time and TLC to get his youngest back on track with his insecurities, but he knew that deep down the kid knew he without doubt that he was one of the _four._

"Good."

The kid smiled again, with bounding enthusiasm, and shot his boss a hopeful look.

"Next weekend there's a convention on downtown…we could go?"

Gibbs grimaced inwardly.

"No Tim, I'm afraid we can't, not next weekend anyway."

Predictably, the boy's face fell.

"But…but you _just_ said-"

"I know what I just said son, but _you_ are not going to _any_ convention for the foreseeable future. Just like Tony isn't going to any movie theatre for the foreseeable future. Regardless of the circumstances, your behaviour today, _both_ of you, was completely out of line. I know you were upset and there were…other factors involved, but that doesn't mean you're not going to be punished. Is that clear?"

Tim groaned.

In the midst of all the emotional upheaval, he'd forgotten he was in trouble.

Deep trouble.

"I asked you if that was clear Tim?"

McGee sighed.

"Yes boss."

Nodding, Gibbs forced himself to remember the fright he'd got when he looked up to see both his boy's _brawling_ with each other, in broad daylight, at a crime scene.

"Now do you want to tell me, what the two of you said to each other, that made you think it was perfectly ok to have a fist fight in the middle of a crime scene?"

Tim blanched.

Taking a reassuring breath, he decided to tell the truth off the bat.

Gibbs would find out eventually anyway.

He always did.

"We…we uhh…insulted each other about our uhm…dads. Tony said that…my father basically didn't care about me because I…don't see him that often. Then I said that the only time Tony's dad wants to see _him_ is when he wants money or he's being arrested for…murder."

Gibbs closed his eyes.

Tim continued, shakily.

"Uhh…then I said the reason Tony must…cling onto…onto _you_ so much is that he abandonment issues."

With that, the younger man dropped his head into his hands and felt his face heat up.

There was silence for a moment, before Gibbs broke it.

"Look at me."

The order was again simple, but he struggled to obey.

Eventually he peeled his face out from his hands, and peeked at the older man.

"That was very cruel Tim, do you see that?"

A pained look flashed across McGee's face as he nodded immediately.

"Yes boss. I didn't _mean_ it, I swear I didn't…I just…I just wanted to hurt him."

Gibbs sighed.

"I know you didn't mean it Tim, but you can't take words like that back once you've said them, right?"

The head bobbed up and down again, miserably.

Gibbs stood, and pulled the kid up gently by the elbow.

"OK Tim, I need to talk to Tony now. Go to your room, and tell him I want him down here."

McGee looked at him with large, sad eyes that tinged with alarm.

"Are you going to…punish him?"

Gibbs smiled to himself, he instantly detected the ingrained feeling of protectiveness for DiNozzo in the kid's voice, that despite their current state of warfare, he couldn't suppress.

Schooling his features into his trademark expression of firmness, he nodded his head.

"Yes, I am. You too. Make no mistake about it, you two are in serious trouble. But no, I'm not going to punish him right now…I want to talk to him first, and then I want to talk to both of you, ok?"

Tim nodded for what felt like the fiftieth time that night.

He turned to walk towards the stairs, before turning back with a pained expression.

"I don't think…" he trailed off, looking away in obvious embarrassment.

"You don't think what Tim?"

The kid took a deep breath.

"I don't think things can go back to the way they were…between me and him."

Gibbs shook his head.

"Answer me honestly, and I know you're still angry at him, but try ok?"

Tim looked confused, but nodded nonetheless.

Do you miss him?"

McGee bit his lip for a minute, whilst Gibbs waited patiently.

"Yeah… I miss him" he admitted quietly, "though I could still choke him."

The elder man chuckled slightly despite himself.

"Then, things will go back to the way they were, in time."

Tim looked up uncertainly.

"How can you know that?"

Despite his current anger at the kid, Gibbs reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

"Because sometimes brothers fight."

…

TBC

…...

A/N: Ok, so this chapter went way longer than I had anticipated, so my apologies, I just wanted to give Tim time to vent! Planning a similar chapter to get Tony's view across next, and a more creative punishment from Gibbs!

The ending, too cheesy?

A/N(2): Do any of you guys watch Blue Bloods? It's my current fix (shameless Tom Selleck fan). I was thinking of giving a fic based on it a go, let me know if guys know the show!

As always, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.


	20. Fight or Flight

Tony looked up as Tim entered the room. His eyes narrowed as he took in the younger mans' presence.

He was still seething.

The junior agent strode in and threw himself down on his bed, jerking his head in the direction of the downstairs floor.

"Your turn."

The senior agent heaved himself off his bed where he'd been perched, and made his way to the door.

Wrenching it open, he turned back with a fierce expression.

"I suppose you hung me out to dry down there?"

Tim glared. The moderate melting he'd felt towards Tony after talking to Gibbs instantly icing over.

"You do that all by yourself, don't need my help."

Tony returned the glare full force, and after one tense moment he spun on his heel and strode out the door and down the stairs without a backwards glance.

His gate slowed considerably as he reached the mid way level.

Gibbs was going to _kill_ him.

God knows what that little rat up there had told him. He grimaced, but then focused his gaze.

The front door was within his direct line of vision.

He could just go.

Gibbs had no _right_ to keep him here. If he wanted to discipline him, he could write him up, suspend him, whatever.

He didn't have the…the authority to do this.

Tony bit his lip.

He didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he was…anxious.

Of course he was always anxious when he was in trouble, but this time…this time it was a lot worse.

It was the first time he'd been in enough trouble with his boss to merit more than a headslap since…since the last time, and as he stood uncertainly in the middle of the staircase, he knew he was in more than deep trouble.

Physically fighting with each other was a massive no-no, and he and Tim had learnt that lesson before.

Well, they were _meant_ to have learnt it before.

He chewed his lip some more.

That door was suddenly becoming more and more attractive.

A tidal wave of anxiety was beginning to rock through his stomach.

He had made Gibbs' little MENSA genius _bleed_. There was no way his boss was going to listen to his side of the story. He'd just yell at him that he was the SFA, and the responsibility was his.

That door was a beautiful shade of brown when you thought about it

He chewed his lip some more.

He suddenly felt uncomfortable. He shuffled on his step. He had told Gibbs he trusted him to handle his screw ups in the way he always had, but, faced with the imminent prospect his stomach was churning as much as the very first time Gibbs had introduced to his creative brand of discipline.

The door was beautifully maintained, really.

He thought of the bruising that was beginning to blossom over McSnitch's face.

The door was antique, it had been restored.

There'd been blood all over Gibbs' pets' face.

The door was becoming rapidly like a mirage in a desert.

His heart began to race a bit.

He knew Gibbs would absolutely lose it if he left. He knew that, but in that moment he found he couldn't bring himself to care.

He had to get out of here.

As if acting through someone else's body, he found himself being propelled towards the front door that was shining like a beacon of freedom.

His feet barely made a sound, the end result of all his years on the Baltimore beat.

His eyes darted into the living room. He exhaled in relief.

Gibbs must be in the kitchen.

The cool metal of the handle under his skin was all that stood between him and escape.

He had it down, he was turning it, he was nearly there.

Throwing the door open to the cool air, he breathed it in deeply.

He moved one foot in front of the other and his right leg now had all the benefits of freedom.

Just as his leg left was about to follow suit, an obstacle emerged.

A large, muscular type obstacle.

Tony looked up at the owner of the arm wrapped firmly around his waist, preventing his getaway.

He gulped.

The blue eyes were on fire once again.

"Oh no you don't."

A/N: Tony's talk is up either tomorrow or the next day.


	21. Bridges of Rebuild

Tony's gaze followed Gibbs' outstretched arm as it pointed towards the living room.

"In. Sit."

His tone brooked no argument, and so Tony did in fact go in and sit, all the while cursing his failed escape attempt. He heard Gibbs rummaging around in the kitchen and closed his eyes wearily. Why did he always have to make things worse for himself.

He sat stock still as he heard the older man make his way back into the living room. It took a few deep breaths for him to look up and see what he had in his hands.

The hand that was outstretched to him.

Accepting the bottle of water in surprise, he looked on silently as Gibbs took the same foot rest he had when whilst talking to Tim.

Gibbs was silent for a moment, as he uncapped his bottle of water and took a long draught.

Tony, not being able to think of anything else to do, followed suit and was surprised that he felt instantly calmer.

He watched as his boss made eye contact with him and opened his mouth.

He just wasn't prepared for what came _out_ of his mouth.

The team leaders tone was pretty gentle, and calm.

"You afraid of me, Tony?"

If DiNozzo men were to keel over in surprise, DiNozzo JR would be currently sprawled across the floor.

He settled for a blurted out and amazed "huh?"

Gibbs stared at him steadily, with that x ray vision that made it so damned impossible to hide anything from him.

"You tried to run. I need to know is that because you're afraid of me? I want the truth now, Tony."

There was silence as the young man digested this information, his head reeling slightly under the weight of it. There were varying feelings of varying degrees of strength floating around his consciousness, but he knew what the predominant one was without much hesitation.

Guilt.

As he looked into the eyes raking over his own, he felt guilt ridden. He wasn't afraid of Gibbs, he'd never been afraid of Gibbs, ever.

In an unusually serious tone, the senior agent answered the question, confidently.

"I've never been afraid of you, boss. Ever."

Gibbs remained silent for a moment, his eyes searching every part of his senior agent for hesitation. He found none.

"Then why try and run?"

Tony swallowed.

"I guess…I guess I just panicked."

Gibbs nodded slowly, hearing the meaning behind the few short words and for the millionth time, cursing his fiasco type handling of recent events.

He took a deep breath. He needed to ask, he knew the answer, but still, he needed to ask.

"Because it's the first time you've been in trouble since Sacks?"

And there it was. The elephant in the room had well and truly come out to play.

Tony blanched somewhat, clearly torn between self preservation and trying not to hurt his boss' feelings.

The truth won out, it always did in these situations.

"Yes boss" he murmured quietly, fidgeting with his hands.

Gibbs exhaled slowly. He'd been expecting that answer, but the tidal wave of regret and guilt that came with it always took his breath away.

Forcing himself into the present, he took in the wrung out appearance of his elder boy.

"Tony…I need you to listen to me, ok?"

The sandy brown head bobbed up and down in instant agreement.

Gibbs took a second, and a breath.

"I can deal with this officially Tony. It'll probably be a suspension, without pay and a long one. Plus a permanent note in your file. I don't have to deal with it personally. You have a choice."

The kid gawped.

He gawped some more, before finally finding his voice.

A bitter voice.

"You're going to rat me out to Vance?"

Gibbs closed his eyes. Why was _everything_ so damned difficult.

He forced himself to keep his tone level.

"No Tony, like I said, it's _your_ choice. Either I can handle it, or _Director_ Vance can."

The younger agent heard the mild rebuke in his boss' tone and sighed.

"I told you already…I don't want official sanctions when I don't have to."

Gibbs nodded, but kept his gaze trained on his second in command.

"Tony, my punishing you, that only works if _you_ understand and know why it's happening. It doesn't work if you're just agreeing to it to avoid official sanctions, and I will not do it if that's why I think you're choosing it."

The kid stared.

He stared some more.

And then he exploded.

"What do you want me to _say?_ That oh yes, yes please by all means remove the option of sitting from me for a couple of days. That would just be _super._ Did you ask _Tim_ if he'd like the choice? Then again, I guess his choice would be between chocolate and vanilla ice cream."

Gibbs' brow furrowed, as he opened his mouth to interject, but was beaten to the punch.

"You want to know why I ran?" he continued scathingly, "it's because I _knew_ that you were gonna blame me for this. You always do, when your _Timmy_ is concerned. Or your Abby for that matter, not to mention Ziva. I'm just an easy target, aren't I?"

Gibbs' eyebrows were in danger of disappearing irrevocably into his hairline as Tony ploughed on.

"McGee say's something wrong, he gets a look. _I_ say something wrong, I get a slap. You…you coddle him, and you concuss me!"

The elder man opened his mouth, but again, was cut off.

"No matter what I do, it's never good enough for you. I break a lead on a case, nothing. _He_ breaks a lead on a case, and you all but throw him a goddamned parade. I'm supposed to be your senior field agent, and yeah I get that I screw up, but it sure would be _nice_ if you treated me like your second in command instead of a puppy that's good to kick when you're in a bad mood!"

The kid was unravelling, and Gibbs could see it whilst the last few sentences the younger man had spat at him hurt like hell, the sensible part of the elder man knew that it wasn't really _him_ they were aimed at.

"Tony-"

Cut off, again.

The kid was on his feet, pacing, his breathing hitched and irregular.

"Tony!"

The pacing just increased, it was obvious the younger man didn't even hear him.

Couldn't even _see_ him.

When he spoke again, it was like his voice was different, distant…like he was talking to himself.

"It's just like that time when I made that welcome home banner. Remember? When you went away on a _business_ trip with Greg's dad, the next door neighbour? I spent days and days working on it. I remember cutting myself trying to cut out an airplane. You came back, I was at the front door with the banner, and you barely looked at it before pushing me against the wall and out of the way because you'd just learned that _Greg_ had made the basketball team, and I didn't…"

It was Gibbs' turn to gape.

What the hell was going on?

Tony was still pacing, and muttering under his breath.

"I didn't make the team…I said I was sorry, but you just kept saying Greg made the team…why couldn't I be like Greg, why did you get stuck with a son like me…"

A sickening realisation hit Gibbs like a forty ton truck.

He stood instinctively and crossed the room.

Before Tony could react, object or argue, he had the kid pulled tightly into his chest, holding him there with a gentle but firm force.

"It's me son, it's me" he said quietly as the young man stiffened, clearly jolted out of his reverie of times past. He began to squirm in Gibbs' arms, but the elder man held onto him tightly, feeling staggering déjà vu.

Eventually, the squirming stopped and Tony relaxed slightly as he breathed in the familiar scent, bringing him back to where he actually was.

Only when Gibbs felt the torso melt back to its general posture, did he release the kid.

He frowned when he saw the intense burning quality of his cheeks, and the look of raw and mammoth embarrassment on his face.

"Boss…" he muttered quietly, "I'm so sorry…I don't know…uhh, I think I'm coming down with something or other, must be dehydrated…you know how it gets."

He looked up with those green eyes and Gibbs felt his stomach churn. The look of absolute trust, mingled with fear of ridicule tore at his heart.

He instinctively reached out and placed a hand on the kids' shoulder.

"Yeah son…I know how it gets."

The look of relief that floated over Tony's face was hard to see, and as he gently guided him back to the couch, Gibbs felt the familiar burning of anger for DiNozzo Senior, rivalled only by his harboured feelings of rage for Admiral McGee and Director David.

Tony twitched slightly uncomfortably on the couch, picking at the label on his water.

Gibbs watched him quietly for a moment, before speaking.

"We need to sort this out Tony…these issues, between you and Tim, hell, between _me_ you and Tim."

Tony looked up miserably.

Gibbs sucked in some air and spoke the words he never wanted to have to say.

"We need to sort it out Tony, because even though I protect you two from official sanctions where I can, I cannot, and I _will_ not have agents together, in the field, that don't have each other's back."

The look of alarm that instantly looked back at him stung, but he carried on.

"If we cannot sort out what is going on here, I will have no choice Tony. I will split the two of you up, both onto different teams. That is a case of absolute last resort, and it would kill me to do it, but I'd rather that than one of _you_ being killed instead."

Tony started.

"Boss" he all but whispered "c'mon…you know I'd have his back, I'd never let anything happen to him."

Gibbs smiled slightly at the sincerity in the kids tone, but he shook his head sadly nonetheless.

"You think that Tony, but if Tim, with the way you two are now, tried to push or shove you out of the way of an oncoming target or danger, you'd shove him right back thinking he was playing the fool. Vice versa."

The senior agent chewed his lip. He couldn't argue with this theory. He suddenly felt a little sick.

Gibbs carried on.

"But…I'm confident we can sort this out."

Tony stopped chewing for just a moment. The determined tone in his boss' voice was both reassuring and unnerving at the same time."

"Now, Tim has told me what happened today at the crime scene. I know he said some cruel things to you Tony, and you to him, but _nothing_ gives _either_ of you the right to lay a hand on each other, am I right?"

The head bobbed up and down.

Gibbs took another healthy gulping of air.

"I own some of the responsibility here. I should have stepped in much earlier when I saw how you were treating Tim, and I didn't. I thought it would pass, and to be frank…I was nervous about bringing you in line after the last time. I let my _own_ insecurities feed both of yours, and for that, I'm sorry."

The look of shock on Tony's face was the emotion in its rawest possible form.

"But, you've acted like a petulant brat here Tony. You've taken out the resentment you're still feeling from my handling of that goddamned Sacks fiasco, on Tim. Isn't that right?"

Gibbs' tone was beginning to lose its gentle edge, and take on the sharp and stern tone that the younger man was so familiar of.

He floundered.

He wasn't floundering long, before he was curtly interrupted.

"Answer me."

No gentleness now.

Tony swallowed.

"Yes boss."

Nodding, Gibbs leant forwards on his foot stool and fixed his senior agent with a firm glare.

"Who is responsible for not believing you about Sacks?"

The question hung in the air like smog, and Tony knew he had to answer it, but as he licked his lips nervously he'd have rather answered the many questions of his disgruntled ex's.

"Answer me" Gibbs repeated quietly, not softening his gaze.

Licking his lips once more, Tony sucked in some oxygen.

"Uhh…you are, I guess."

His answer was quiet, and almost apologetic.

Gibbs nodded encouragingly.

"Exactly. I, and I _alone_ am responsible. So, why are you taking it out on Tim?"

The younger man swallowed.

"I…I don't know boss."

Gibbs shook his head.

"Not good enough, try again."

The younger agent groaned to himself. He hated talks like this, and he hated the fact that he was beginning to feel the stirrings of guilt inside him for how he'd treated McGee.

He deliberated and debated for a moment, before deciding to go with the hones truth.

Gibbs would get it out of him anyway, one way or the other.

"I guess…that uhh I was still angry about it, but I didn't uhm want things to stay weird between us…and I was jealous of Tim because it seemed like you trusted him and not me…so I took it out on him."

If ever there was a time that he would stop feeling guilty about he'd handled that one goddamned incident, Gibbs didn't think it was anywhere in his near future.

He remained silent for a moment, his brain whirring through the obviously difficult words his elder boy had just spoken.

"Tony, you'll never know how sorry I am about what happened. I mean that, and... that's why I've been letting you away with murder recently, but there has to be a line drawn somewhere, do you understand?"

The slow nod let him know it was understood.

"Do you see how unfair you've been to Tim? Don't you remember how he tried to stick up for you when I asked both of you if you were involved?"

Tony blanched.

"Yes boss" he murmured quietly, and to Gibbs' intense relief it looked like he just might be making some kind of headway with the kid.

The elder man nodded slowly, and deliberated for a moment.

"Go and get Tim, and then I want both of you to get back down here."

Tony gaped at the instruction as if he had just been told to go and explore the North Pole.

"Boss?"

The now very wearied Jethro closed his eyes briefly and pinched his nose.

"Go and get Tim, and then I want to both of you get back down here."

Tony managed to stand up obediently, turn obediently, before turning back disobediently.

"Aren't you…uhh…I mean aren't I…"

Gibbs looked up tiredly.

"Tony, go and do as you're told. Now."

Instantly recognising the warning tone, the younger agent turned and made short work of the stairs.

Hovering outside his and Tim's door for a moment, he chewed upon his now well worn lip.

Sighing, he pushed it open and found the junior agent still sprawled on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Erm…boss wants both of us downstairs now."

Tim looked up expressionlessly, and swung his legs over the side of the bed and was on his feet in a few seconds.

He passed by Tony without a sideward's glance, and edged out of the room and started down the stairs quietly.

The senior agent trotted quickly behind him and the two were shuffling into the living room for the second time that day.

Gibbs merely pointed to the couch, and waited for them to comply.

When the two were seated side by side not looking at each other, he leant forwards once again.

"What happened today, and what's been going on between you two is inexcusable. We all have a part to play in it, so I don't want to hear who said what, or who did what. You two are going to sort this out amongst yourselves. Follow me."

With that, he abruptly stood up and led the way out of the living room and down the hall.

This time Tim and Tony did exchange looks, out of habit more than anything. Both wore were relieved to find identical looks of apprehension staring back them.

Gibbs offered no explanation, continuing to lead the way until he stopped short outside the back door.

Throwing it open, he strode out into his rather large garden that was bathed in the afternoon sunshine.

The two exchanged another habitual look before following.

They stopped short in the middle of the well manicured lawn, and followed Gibbs' head jerk.

They both stared in surprise, wondering how they hadn't seen the monstrous beast that lay in the corner.

A wooden pallet was laden down with enough complex looking timber and fixings to build another boat loomed down at them. It was held together with industrial wrap, and had clearly not long since been delivered. A large book was securely attached to its side, clearly an instruction manual of some sort.

The two young agents stood in complete confusion as they took in the sight. Gibbs used this opportunity to place himself in front of them.

"This, boys, is the main part of your punishment."

The looks of confusion were rapidly turning into identical looks of horror.

"This is a complicated, eco friendly stand alone conservatory, or sun room if you prefer. The guys from the company _were_ going to come and construct it, but I'll call and cancel them. The reason they _were_ coming, is because this project requires very specialised measurements, complicated calculations, not to mention chemical components. Not my speciality, but right up the street of oh I don't know…a MIT grad?"

He shot Tim a pointed look.

"Now, as for the carpentry side, this project is no joke. This needs honed skills, a good eye, and plenty of strong experience. Not to mention natural skill. That would right up _your_ street, right Tony?

He shot Tony an identical pointed look.

"The only way this baby goes up, is if you two work together. It needs _both_ of your strengths, or its going nowhere. Considering the girls have managed to close our side of the case on their _own_ and that we're off rotation as of today, I'd hazard a guess that this will take about a week to put together if you work hard, and as a team, or a lot longer if you don't. Here's the rub, you two are confined to his house until this is built. Without privileges. No phones, laptops, nothing. When it's finished, you're both still confined until I say otherwise, but you can have your phones etc back."

He shot both of them a stern glare.

"At the end of this project, you two are going to have reached a decision in your own minds. You can talk about it between yourselves if you want to, or you can think about it individually. Either way, when this is built I want an answer from each of you to a question. That question is, which one of you is going to take the butt roasting for this. Because, I'm only spanking one of you."

The two mouths that hung agape in his direction were in serious danger of catching flies.

"I want reasons from each of you as to why you think, or why you don't think, that that person should be you. Now, have I made myself clear?"

The two agents didn't answer, they just continued to stare in incredulous horror, their gaze shifting between the mountain of timber and their completely serious boss.

Gibbs bristled.

"I asked you two if I had made myself _clear._ Because, if I haven't, then this can go down the official route and you can both enjoy a nice, lengthy, unpaid suspension _,_ if you prefer? _"_

The two tousled heads shook their heads in unison, as they digested their fate.

"Good, everything you need is in the shed. There's nothing needed to build that, that I don't have. If you're unsure how to use a tool, come in and ask. Do not try and use it without knowing how."

Gibbs took a breath and checked his watch.

"No time like the present, go upstairs and get changed into working clothes and I'll call you both for dinner when its ready."

With that, the elder of the three turned on his heel and strode back into the house, leaving the back door open for the two boys and made his way down to the basement for a bit of peace.

He snorted as he pushed open the door.

Who was he kidding?

Upstairs, the two agents quickly and quietly changed into sweats and t-shirts. An awkward energy hung between them, replacing the outright hostility that had been the norm for the last couple of weeks. Neither knew how to react to it, so each just remained silent.

Traipsing back downstairs and out to the garden, they stared once more up at the mammoth looking task before them.

Tony broke the silence first.

"So…I guess you could start flicking through the instructions, while I go and fill a wheelbarrow up with tools from the garage?"

Tim stared at him for a moment, before nodding curtly and moving forwards to begin the task of wrenching the manual from its binds.

Tony sighed as he set off towards the garage.

His anger, bottle up resentment and jealousy was beginning to dissipate, and in its place a consistent bubble of guilt was forming.

He worked methodically, remembering all that Gibbs had taught him about various tools and their uses, and carefully selected each one.

After loading up as much as he could carry in one go, he deftly steered it out of the garage and instantly saw Tim struggling to detach the manual.

Making his way over and setting the barrow down, Tony reached for his always carried pocket knife and moved to stand beside Tim.

"Here, let me get it I have-"

"Get out of it" Tim spat angrily, "I can get the damn thing down."

Leaving his knife where it was, Tony worked to keep his face neutral and offered a quiet "ok then."

He turned, and set about unloading the barrow whilst Tim continued to struggle.

Discreetly watching out of the kitchen window as he'd gone to grab some water, Gibbs sighed.

This was probably going to take a while.

After a couple of minutes, the manual had been successfully cut down and the tools had been arranged in some semblance of order.

The two straightened up and looked at each other awkwardly.

Tim vocalised what they were both thinking.

"Now what?"

Shrugging helplessly, Tony pointed to the book.

"You've got the smarts McGee, I've got the hands. You need to tell me what to do."

This wasn't strictly true.

From roving his eyes over the stacked timber, Tony could instantly piece together certain joints in his mind's eye, thus giving him a starting point. But the guilt that was beginning to intensify with every breath dictated that he give Tim as much leeway as possible.

Nodding almost absentmindedly, the younger of the two plopped himself down on the grass and flicked the thick book open to page one.

Tony watched silently as the kid pondered the volumes in front of him, and the guilt in his stomach began to burn.

How did he not realise what an _ass_ he'd been?

His face flushed when he remembered how Tim had come to him, all sad puppy dog eyes to boot. Asking him had he done something to upset him, and why was he so cold towards him? He closed his eyes in shame when he recalled the scathing and heated rebuff he'd launched at the younger man.

God, he was such an ass.

His self deprecating reverie was broken as Tim got to his feet, and pointed to a diagram in the book.

"I think we need to build this part first, it serves as the foundations."

Tony examined the diagram over Tim's shoulder, and quickly raked his eyes over the amassed timber.

His face fell.

Pointing, he drew Tim's gaze to the bottom of the heap.

Both boys exchanged exasperated looks, and spoke at the exact same moment.

"…is he for real?"

Gibbs who had returned to refill his glass, caught their speech in unison through the open window and chuckling slightly, made his way back down to the basement.

Which one of his wives was it that told him he had no creativity?

Out in the garden, and under the progressively scorching sun, the two agents worked diligently and quietly. Removing the timber frame by frame was painstaking and laborious, but…both felt themselves loosening up a bit. As if the physical exertion of dismantling the stack of wood was slowly eroding the built up tensions in each of them.

Still though, Tony caught the odd hurt filled, and the odd furious look that came his way from his probie, and winced internally at each one.

Lifting, pulling and dragging had given him plenty of time for thought. Leading him to the conclusion that the reason Tim was in this mess, was because of him.

For his part, Tim was experiencing mixed emotions.

They ranged from furious anger at the man beside him, to an odd…muted happiness that they were now at least able to work alongside each other without hurling the most vicious insults they could think of at the other. He felt his own stabbing of guilt for what he'd said at the crime scene.

Tony had told him some things about DiNozzo Senior one beer filled night in confidence, and he'd basically used that to his fullest advantage to wound him.

He grit his teeth as the anger came back again in its now cyclical manner, and shot the sweaty senior agent another glare.

If he hadn't been such a childish ass for the last two months, neither of them would be in this situation.

Eventually, the two unearthed the required timber for the starting point, having strategically separated the remaining frames into their allotted stages.

Dragging the frames into the required middle position of Gibbs' lawn as instructed, Tony waited patiently for Tim to read up, whilst he admired the wood. Working on his boss' boat had given him a growing love for carpentry. The sun room would look great when, _if_ , it was done, taking up only a small portion of the spacious garden.

Tim was soon speaking, but…what he was saying, Tony wasn't sure.

Holding a large frame, he peeked around it.

"Hey McGee…could you say that again…slower?"

Tim ground his teeth.

"What part didn't you understand?"

Tony sighed.

"The middle part mostly, would you mind just repeating it again…a bit slower?"

He worked hard to keep his voice neutral, unlike the scathing tone Tim had shot at him.

The kid had every right to be mad at him, and if snarling at him made him feel better, well then…so be it.

For his part, Tim suddenly regretted his tone.

He'd sensed the change in the senior agent's attitude.

He crossed over, and bent down to show Tony the diagram. The two conversed in detail, as Tim calculated the exact measurements needed, and Tony cut to order.

McGee watched in surprise at the deftness and skill with which Tony worked the wood. It was clearly a natural talent.

An hour or so later, saw five beams firmly planted in Gibbs' back yard, with markings indicating where the next beams should attach, courtesy of Tim.

They were just about to drag those beams over, when they were stopped short by a call from the door.

"Dinners ready. You're done for today, throw the tarp from the garage over your work and go wash up."

Gibbs withdrew his head, and pottered back into the kitchen with a small smile on his face. The two brawlers had made far more progress then he'd expected them to, the beams looked securely fastened and meticulously planned out.

He dished out two bowls of steaming curry to the sounds of two bathrooms being thoroughly used, and within a few minutes all three were seated at the familiar table.

Over the sounds of clinking cutlery, Gibbs cleared his throat.

"How're you finding it then?"

The two looked up, and then at each other, before offering non committal phrases of "ok" and "fine, I guess."

The eldest agent nodded thoughtfully, and returned to his dinner.

They weren't ready to be pressed yet, so he wouldn't press.

Dinner was a relatively quiet affair, and the table was soon cleared and the kitchen righted.

Tim and Tony rose, and instinctively made their way into the living room to commandeer the television, but were stopped in their tracks.

"Oh no, not a chance."

The two turned with crestfallen expressions, and followed Gibbs' head jerk to a large file box that was perched on the counter.

"Until that sun room is up, it's building by day, and cold cases by night for you two. By hand."

With that, he strode into the living room, shutting the door behind him leaving the two morose looking agents behind.

Tony was the first to recover, letting out a sigh that could be heard all the way into the living room causing Gibbs to roll his eyes, and hoisting the box onto the table.

He quickly pulled out the bulky files, and separating them into larger and smaller stacks he placed the smaller pile on Tim's side of the table, and threw himself down in front of the larger one.

Grabbing a pen from the collection in the large bowl in the middle of the table, he got to work without another word.

Gaping for a moment at the variation in size of his pile, Tim opened his mouth uncertainly.

Eventually deciding against comment, he followed suit and was soon working steadily, his feelings of animosity taking another defrosting session.

They worked without a word for about two hours, before they were halted by Gibbs' entrance.

Spying the larger stack of files on Tony's side, he hid a small smile.

"Ok. That's enough, hit the rack."

Nodding, the two quickly threw their files back into the box, for tomorrow night's entertainment.

As they passed him, Gibbs couldn't help but reach out and ruffle their hair.

As merited, and as necessary as it was, he hated being this hard on them for such a drawn out period of time.

"Night boys" he murmured quietly, and to his relief, they each shot him a small but sincere smile, and a mumbled "night boss" before disappearing up the stairs.

The night passed without further incident, and all three were up early the next morning as per the usual Gibbs household custom.

With being off rotation, they weren't required to go into the office, as long as they were reachable.

So it was breakfast, a shower, and back outside to the makeshift construction site.

Then it was dinner, another shower, and back inside to the makeshift cold case headquarters.

This was the routine the two men followed for the next four or five days, and the sun room was beginning to blossom before their eyes.

Their relationship, whilst maybe not blossoming, had certainly improved.

Tony continued to be patient and pleasant, whilst battling his feelings of guilt, whilst Tim thawed more and more with every day, even though he was dealing with guilt of his own.

On the fifth day of the build, Gibbs looked out the window to see the two boy's laughing and joking as Tony tried to teach Tim how to sand the ornate pieces for the sun rooms frame. Tim kept bursting out into laughter at Tony's gravelly impersonation of Gibbs' mantra to "sand with the grain."

Laughing and muttering "cheeky pup" under his breath, he returned to his basement to sand with the grain, and enjoy the feeling of lessening tension in his own body.

It had pained him to see his two boys so at war.

He could tell they still had a way to go, but he could also tell they'd come a hell of a long way since the first day he'd issued their builders permit.

It also pained him to make them work on boring, tedious cold cases when usually they'd watch a film or whatever.

The sensible part of him knew he had no other option, what they'd done wasn't small. Any other boss would have at the very least suspended them, many would have fired them.

He compensated for his feelings of guilt somewhat by making their varying favourite dinners each night, that never lasted long, they having built up quite the appetite from their days work.

On the sixth day, there came somewhat of a breakthrough.

The sun room was nearly complete. Both agents had to admit, it had been no easy feat. Tim had had to work quite hard to get the calculations down right, such was their complexity. Tony had to work even harder to force to materials to bend to the will of a perhaps over exuberant designer.

All that left to be completed were the ornate engravings on the door, and for the door to be hung.

The sun room itself was a thing of beauty, and both boys were secretly quite proud of their work.

The door lay on the grass between them, as Tony worked on the right side and Tim the left.

He had shown the younger man how to hold a chisel just right to allow for the greatest control, just as Gibbs had shown him.

The kid had taken it up pretty well too.

They worked in comfortable silence for a while, until Tony needed a different sized chisel.

Reaching over the door, he accidentally knocked Tim's hand with quite a force, causing it to rebound off the door with a thud.

Yelping, the younger man instantly sucked him thumb to lessen the pain, shooting Tony a death glare.

Squawking, Tony threw down his chisel and grabbed a wet cloth from the cold bucket of water they kept beside them to cool down, and wrapped it around Tim's finger.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident Tim I swear…is is sore?"

Twitching the offending digit, the junior agent shook his head.

"No, it's fine now. Just a scratch."

Over the other side of the door, Tony felt the dam of guilt that had been threatening over the last week, burst its banks.

"I'm sorry Tim…hell, I'm so sorry…"

McGee looked up in alarm at the now tortured expression contorting Tony's features.

"Jeez, it was only a tap. It's ok."

Tony didn't seem to be listening, he dropped his head down onto his knee and shook it miserably.

"So sorry…"

Tim was becoming rapidly more and more alarmed.

Standing, he crossed over the door, and knelt down beside the elder of the two.

"Tony…it's ok, its fine…look" he urged, showing him his now normal looking finger.

The head shook again, but this time the senior agent _did_ raise his head.

"No…Tim, I mean… _I'm sorry."_

McGee merely stared nonplussed. He wasn't really big on double meanings, and the look of raw hurt on Tony's face was still alarming to him. He was about to open his mouth to tell him he'd no idea what he was talking about, when realisation struck him.

"Oh…" he said softly, " _oh."_

Tony gave a morose nod, and took a deep breath.

It was now or never.

"I was jealous. You were right, I was jealous as hell. You're so brainy and everything, and when Gibbs believed you…I blamed you. It made no sense, and it was selfish as hell. You tried to help me, to stand up for me, and I was just an…ass."

He took another shuddering breath.

"I took my anger at Gibbs out on you. I'm so sorry, I've been a complete jerk. The reason you're here, the reason you're in this mess, is all on me. I provoked you at the crime scene, I treated you like dirt…for weeks and _weeks."_

Tim tried to interject, but to no avail.

"What I said…about your dad, I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have said that…I was trying to hurt you as much as possible, and that was about the most vicious thing I could come up with…you…you must hate me."

With that, he was finished.

Dropping his head back onto his knee, he exhaled deeply and slowly.

He expected Tim to get up and walk away, hell, maybe take a swing at him.

What good was a lame ass apology going to do after all he'd done to the kid?

It was a complete surprise to feel a warm hand on his knee.

"I don't hate you."

Tony jerked his head up in amazement.

"You don't?" he all but choked.

Tim smiled, the first true and pain free smile he had given Tony in what felt like an eternity.

"No, I don't. I mean, don't get me wrong, I could still kill you at times…but no, I don't hate you."

Tony stared, before tentatively returning the smile.

"I have that effect on people."

McGee snorted, and nodded his head.

"I've noticed."

Tony nodded slowly, and hesitantly opened his mouth again.

He was beaten to the punch.

"Look…Tony, these past few weeks have been rough. Yeah, you've been a jerk and yeah there were times when I was so mad I couldn't even look at you. But now…I'd just like to get back to how things were. You know, when you were annoying, but in your _usual_ way."

The senior of the two stared again.

"Really?"

He didn't want to admit it, but his heart lifted considerably at the sentiment.

Tim rolled his eyes affectionately.

"Really. And…uhh, well I need to apologise as well. What I said at the crime scene…I feel awful. I was trying to hurt you too, and I knew just how to do it. I should never have said that… and I didn't mean it either. I guess we're just as bad as each other huh?"

Tony grinned, before punching McGee playfully on the shoulder.

"Not quite…but thanks."

Tim returned the grin, and stood up, dusting the grass of his clothes.

"You think he knew this would work out like this?"

Tony also stood and dusted himself off with a laugh.

"He's all knowing McGee, so yeah, I'd say so."

The two laughed some more, before eying each other slightly awkwardly.

As if by synchronisation, they both pulled each other into a quick hug, that turned into a slightly longer hug.

With a final, and whispered "sorry kid" into McGee's ear, the two broke apart, no longer embroiled in a senseless feud.

"Let's get this door up, and get some kind of freedom back then" Tony grinned, stooping down to continue working, as Tim followed suit.

Inside the house, leaning against the counter, and watching the whole scene unfold, Gibbs grinned his trademark grin.

"That's my boys."

Within another two hours, the sun room was finally erect and complete in all its glory, with a very sweaty, but happy, Tim and Tony basking in its wake.

Gibbs had answered the excited callings from the two with a chuckle, and striding out into the garden, he was damn impressed.

Clapping each agent on the shoulder, he smiled down at them.

"That's a mighty fine job boys, she's perfect, well done. I'm proud of the pair of you."

The two bathed in the well earned praise, grinning up at the wooden structure.

"Now's all that's left to do is take her down again" Gibbs finished seriously.

There was a brief, shell shocked silence.

Tim choked on his breath, and Tony squealed at this pronouncement. They each bore identical looks of betrayal and horror as they stared at the elder man.

When he could contain it no more, Gibbs burst into laughter and ruffled their hair.

"Only joking…only joking" he choked, "come on…go get washed up and let's eat lunch."

The outraged "not cool boss" that followed him only made him chuckle more.

After another half an hour elapsed, the three were sitting down to a pretty decent lunch, and the chat around the table was animated and happy.

Gibbs smiled privately to himself.

Mike Franks had taught him well.

When the last morsels had been eaten, and the last dish washed, he instructed both of them back to the table.

Clearly expecting another bout of cold cases, they exchanged glum looks but otherwise did as they were told.

Sitting himself down at the head of the table, Gibbs was clutching two legal pads and two pens.

"Ok, remember what I told you would happen, when your project was finished?"

The two younger man had conveniently pushed this memory from their minds, but now had no choice but to nod with increased glumness.

"Good. I want each of you to give me four reasons as to why you think, or why you don't think, you should be the one to be spanked. This is not a test, no right or wrong answers. I just want honesty from you guys. Got it?"

The silent nodding assured him that they did.

Distributing the pads and pens, Gibbs looked at his watch.

"You got five minutes then. Off you go."

With that, he leant back in the chair and buried his head in a newspaper.

Tony and Tim exchanged miserable looks, before dropping their heads to their pads and picking up their pads.

Five minutes seemed to snail by in excruciating fashion, but when Gibbs put down his paper announcing time was up, they had completed their task.

They each handed their pads back to the their boss and waited uncomfortably for him to read through each of their reasons. They squirmed uncomfortably in their seats, and avoided eye contact with each other.

Gibbs had to work hard not to smile fondly as he read them.

They were exactly what he expected to see.

He might have screwed up with them, but he still knew his boys well.

Schooling his features in firmness, he cleared his throat.

Without further adieu, he swapped the pads over in his hands. Sliding Tony's to Tim, and Tim's to Tony's, he fixed them with a stern glare.

"Read them, to yourselves."

Their squirming instantly increased, as they each picked up the others list and scanned through them.

Tony choked first.

"Boss… _no"_ he blurted out, "this was _my_ fault, no matter what Tim thinks. I'm the one who deserves it, not him…please boss, don't."

It was then Tim's turn to splutter.

"Tony…shut up, I'm not exactly whiter than white in this…boss, pick me. I wound him up, I rubbed his face in things, I _provoked_ him…boss c'mon, you _know_ what I said, you can't pick him."

Gibbs held up a silencing hand.

"I've read your lists, you've read your lists, and I've made up my mind. It's non-negotiable."

He took a deep breath.

"Tim, go to your room. Tony, you're with me."

Tony nodded determinedly, grateful yet nervous that Gibbs had made the right choice.

He had started this whole thing off, he had caused this. Sure Tim had retaliated, but who wouldn't. This was on him.

Tim however, shook his head doggedly.

"Boss…c'mon. That's not fair, he apologised to me. We're good again, you don't need to…to do anything."

Gibbs held up a hand yet again.

"Tim…like I said, its non-negotiable. Now, go to your room. That's not a request."

McGee spluttered and stared helplessly at Tony, who jerked his head upstairs in a clear endorsement of Gibbs' orders.

Casting wildly around his head for some kind bargaining chip, he seized on the most logical one.

"Can't we take half? Boss, that's fair…please, let me take half?"

Gibbs shook his head slowly, and rose from his seat.

He gently guided Tim up from his chair and pointed at the stairs.

"No son, now go to your room. Right now please, this is your final warning."

Tim gulped and looked miserably at Tony who smiled reassuringly at him.

"Go McGee, I'll be fine. Scoot."

Groaning, but realising there was simply no way to help Tony, McGee reluctantly shuffled towards the stairs. Climbing three, he couldn't help but turn around and try once more.

"But-"

"Go!" Tony and Gibbs chorused in unison.

Tim finally took heed and the sounds of the bedroom door shutting drifted lazily down the stairs.

The first and second in command stared at each other for a moment, before Tony being unusually omniscient, smiled a true smile.

Gibbs was nervous as hell. It would have been cute, really, if his butt wasn't on the line.

"Relax boss. It's just like riding a bike, you'll be fine."

Gaping at the younger man for a moment, Gibbs eventually snorted.

"That obvious huh?"

Tilting his head back, Tony shot him a roguish grin.

"Losing your poker face old man."

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs leant over and issued the obligatory head slap.

Tony made a show of yelping in indignation, as the elder man turned away and began to rummage in a drawer.

The younger mans stomach dropped slightly.

He knew what was in that drawer.

He despised what was in that drawer.

They all did.

Grasping the heavy wooden spoon in his hand, Gibbs shut the drawer quietly, before taking Tony by the arm and guiding him to his feet.

"C'mon then, let's get this over and done with."

With that, he led the way into the living room, with only a mildly stalling Tony in his wake.

Sitting down on the couch, he beckoned the boy closer to him.

"Tell me why I chose you?"

Tony groaned, but being right in front of his boss who was still clutching that hateful spoon, decided just to comply off the bat.

"Because I treated Tim terribly for no reason, because I endangered our working and personal relationship and thereby placed both of us in harm's way, because I didn't come to you and tell you I was still struggling with the whole Sacks thing, and instead I took it out on him and…"

He paused to take a breath, and continued on under Gibbs' encouraging nod.

"Because my behaviour is not how you treat family."

Nodding slowly, Gibbs smiled slightly up at his second in command as he finished reciting his list.

"Exactly Tony, exactly."

Gulping, the younger man nodded and looked around at the familiar arm rest.

He began to walk towards it, wanting to get the whole thing over and done with as soon as possible.

He was however, stopped in his tracks.

"No. Not over there."

Tony looked around in confusion, seeing Gibbs scooting back on the couch.

"Huh?"

The team leader took a deep breath, this probably wasn't going to be easy.

"Come here" he ordered firmly.

Bewildered, Tony did as he was told out of instinct, and found himself standing at the right hand side of Gibbs.

Using this confusion, Gibbs quickly reached out and within the blink of an eye, he had pulled the kid over his knee, and wrapped a firm arm around his waist.

For a split second, it seemed like Tony wasn't going to put up a fuss.

That split second sailed passed however, and any hope of non fussing went out the window.

He instantly began to struggle in his boss' grasp, mortified by the position he was in.

Gibbs kept a calm and steady arm around the kid's waist, and used his free arm to dish out one searing swat across his sweat clad backside.

The shock of it was enough to render Tony still.

"Yes, I know I don't usually spank you like this. Yes, I know you hate it. Yes, I know you know that you _should_ hate it. Yes, I know this is usually for the girls. Yes, I know you think that Tim's never been spanked like this, but you're wrong. Yes, I will treat you like a brat when you've acted like one and no its not unfair."

He took a deep breath.

"Did I cover everything you were about to say?"

Tony growled into his arms, where he'd deposited his head.

What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

"Answer me."

Growling some more, Tony eventually had the good sense to offer a "yes boss", albeit from between clenched teeth.

"Good."

Without further adieu, Gibbs reached out and deftly tugged the kid's sweats and boxers down to his knees, graciously pretending not to hear the rumblings that started up again in response.

He felt staggering déjà vu hit him as he wrapped his arm around Tony's waist. It wasn't that long ago since he'd spanked Tim like this for the first time either.

Drawing a deep breath, he was surprised to find his nerves had disappeared.

He hated what he was about to do as much as he'd always hated it, but he wasn't…nervous.

He was the same him, and Tony was the same Tony.

Sighing, he pulled himself together and tugging the kid tighter to him, he didn't know for his sake or the boys, he laid down the first swat.

It cracked around the living room, and its recipient yelped in surprise.

After he'd gotten over his outrage, Tony had had a brief window of relief.

Sure it was embarrassing as hell to be put over his boss' knee like a ten year old, but still…it would hurt less…right?

Wrong.

Gibbs quickly settled into a regular tempo, and Tony's butt began to instantly pink up.

He methodically spanked every inch of the kids backside, and the brisk swats were beginning to intermingle with the predictable hisses and "oww's" from his oldest boy.

He didn't scold, as he brought down his leathery hand in rapid succession.

They had all said what they needed to say.

After one or two minutes, he reluctantly reached out to the sound of Tony's embryonic sniffles, and picked up the wooden spoon.

Closing his eyes briefly, he forced himself to tighten his grip on the boy and the thick wood.

The first swat drew a gasp, and the second a strangled yelp.

Gibbs' heart pinched as he brought it down a third time. The sounds of distress always hit him hard, and he had to fight the usual impulse of throwing in the towel and gathering the kid up into a hug.

He continued the spanking in earnest, increasing his hold as Tony began to squirm across his knee.

"Try and stay still son" he muttered quietly, as he brought the spoon down again.

After only a couple more swats, he felt the young man begin to go limp across his knee. He knew a large part of that was the guilt the boy was letting go of, and it was this alone that gave him the strength to bring the spoon down again and again.

When the sounds of unrestrained sobbing began to fill the room, Gibbs heart pinched more and more forcefully.

Looking down at the scarlet backside across his lap, and hearing the now quiet weeping from the tangle of arms, he knew he'd made his point.

With one or two last, and perfunctory swats, he drew the punishment to a close.

In that moment, it was hard to tell who was more relieved.

He instantly carded a hand through the tousled mop of hair, and murmured the traditional words of reassurance and forgiveness.

"You're ok…you're ok bud, I got you" he muttered gently, as the crying began to peter out.

He didn't move, or try to move the kid, he wasn't ready yet.

Instead he continued to tousle his hair, and speak gently to him.

After a few minutes, Tony gave one more large sniff and made to lift himself off his boss' knee.

As per his custom, Gibbs stood with him and turned his back to give him the privacy to right his clothing.

When he turned around, he winced at the watery green eyes, the flushed face and bleary expression.

He'd seen it many times before, but he always experienced the same jolt of guilt regardless.

He reached out and gently lifted Tony's chin up.

"How're you doing?"

Tony stared at him for a moment, and Gibbs' heart missed a beat.

"I'm a bit hot, but other than that…I'm good" he croaked, his voice hitched, before breaking out into his usual rueful pout.

"Sorry boss" he added, and the two words were so loaded with sincerity that Gibbs didn't doubt them for a second.

The kids' eyes were red rimmed, but they had their normal glimmer back.

Snorting at the joke, he rolled his eyes and crooked his finger.

"Come here."

Tony wasted no time in obeying, and was soon pulled into Gibbs' arms for the traditional hug. As he breathed in the familiar scent, he felt his body unwind.

Finally, the whole mess was behind them. He instinctively knew it, and he knew that _Gibbs_ instinctively knew it.

Holding the kid in his arms, the older of the two felt his body melt and heard the contented sigh waft upwards, causing him to smile his rare smile.

He eventually released his agent, and ruffling his hair he pointed to the door.

"Ok, go and get Tim and then come back down."

Tony looked up in alarm.

"What?" he spluttered indignantly, "but boss you _said_ that it was just one of us. You can't punish Tim…you can't!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes, but was secretly thrilled Tony's protective streak for McGee was well and truly back.

"I'm not, I just want to talk to both of you. Now, go."

Breathing a relieved sigh, Tony smiled an apology and exited the room. He winced as he took the first step, his sweats rubbing offensively against his scorched backside.

He took the rest of the stairs slowly, gingerly.

Pushing open their shared bedroom door, he stuck his head around it and saw an anxious looking junior agent perched on his bed.

Seeing Tony, the younger man instantly leapt up.

"Are you ok? Was it bad? Why did you _do_ that, I would have taken it!"

The senior agent rolled his eyes, but was secretly thrilled that he and McGee's brotherly streak seemed to have been restored.

"Calm down, calm down. It was ok…I'm fine. Boss wants us downstairs."

Tim nodded slowly, taking in every inch of Tony's appearance in attempt to assess just how fine or otherwise he really was.

He opened his mouth uncertainly, he needed to say something, but what it was, he didn't know.

He didn't have to think about it.

"Look, Tim…are we ok? I know we said we were, but…I just need to make sure."

The uncertain and insecure look on Tony's face tore at the younger mans' heartstrings.

It was an uncommon serious moment between the two, as he looked DiNozzo square in the eye.

"We're good Tony, we're good."

There was no hesitation, or lingering resentment in his voice.

He was telling the truth.

The elder of the two hesitated for just a moment, before reached forward and pulling McGee into a brief hug and mussing his hair.

"C'mon, before he sends out a search party."

Tim grinned and nodded, and the two were soon edging their way back into the living room.

But to a completely different atmosphere.

There was no ticking time bomb between them anymore.

Gibbs watched them enter, with a smile on his face. It didn't take a psychology degree to know that the two had exchanged words upstairs.

As they sat, and looked over at him expectantly, he straightened himself up.

"I take it you two have sorted everything you need to sort out?"

Tony and Tim shot him identical looks of rueful acknowledgment.

The "yes boss" was murmured in unison.

Nodding happily, Gibbs smiled at them.

"Now, was that so hard?" he teased, his eyes twinkling.

The identical looks of deathly warning that were now coming his way just made him chuckle.

"Ok. I only have a few more words to say on this, and then it never needs to be mentioned again, ok?"

The dubious nodding let him know it was ok, but barely just.

Gibbs took a deep breath, before turning his gaze on Tony.

He got straight to the point, in typical LJ fashion.

"I'm sorry I didn't intervene sooner and call you on your behaviour Tony, this could have all been avoided if I had. It won't happen again, ok?"

The shocked expression eventually gave way to a wondrous nodding, as the elder boy digested his apology.

Satisfied, Gibbs took another breath, before turning to Tim.

"I'm sorry I let you deal with everything on your own Tim, I'm a bit too old fashioned at times, and thought you'd sort it out amongst yourselves. I was wrong, and it should never have gotten this far, and I promise it won't happen again, ok?"

Tim gaped and stuttered for a moment, before nodding his head quietly.

Gibbs turned his gaze on both of them.

"I need both of you to promise me something, ok?"

They nodded hesitantly.

"If you feel, like I'm treating one of you unfavourably compared to the other, will you tell me, right then and there? I promise, I won't go off, I won't be mad. I need to know. Sometimes I guess I expect each of to just know why I'm acting a certain way towards you, and not the other, and its' not fair. I'm not always aware of it, but I'm going to work on it, if you'll help me?"

This time the two gaped so heavily that Gibbs briefly feared for their orthodontic health.

For their part, the two boys were just staggered.

Gibbs had admitted fault after fault in the space of a few sentences, and had promised to work on them.

The two were so used to the idea of a flawless, all knowing, Gibbs, that it took them a while to get their heads around the fact that it was a _human_ sitting in front of them.

Eventually, and with Gibbs' patience, they managed to answer.

Their quiet, and sincere "yes boss'" were music to the elder mans ears, and he nodded happily.

"Good, then I think we're all taking something away from this, but as of now, its behind us all, ok?"

The answering grins were broad and instant.

"Excellent. Now, look behind your cushions."

They stared.

"Huh?"

Tony, of course.

Gibbs smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Look behind your cushions."

Tim recovered first, with Tony hot on his heels, as they rummaged behind the soft pillows supporting their backs.

There was a silence as each digested their find.

Tim squawked first, as he stared at the convention tickets for next month in his hand.

Tony yelped shortly after, as he stared at the game tickets for next month in his hand.

Gibbs grinned at the looks of sheer happiness and amazement.

He'd missed those looks.

"You're both confined for another week or so, and then Tim and I, and Tony and I, can go to each event, any questions?"

There was another silence.

The two pointed at the other.

"Can he come too?"

Gibbs snorted, and reached behind his own cushion, drawing out two extra tickets.

"Thought you'd say that."

…

A/N: So this is the longest update I think I've ever posted to any of my stories, but I wanted to heal the relationship between the boys!

Please let me know what you think!

I'm not sure where this story is going, or if I'm continuing it, so thanks for reading so far guys and I hope you've enjoyed!


	22. Things?

Gibbs signed off on his last report of their latest case with a sigh of relief. It had been a tough one, one that had kept them all lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling. Tossing the file onto the dangerously teetering stack on his desk, he smiled slightly. It had been two weeks or so since the boys had come back in line, and as he stared at their vacant desks, his smile grew a bit broader.

He'd uncharacteristically allowed them to take an early dart, so they could go to some new movie release or other. He couldn't help but chuckle at the different reasons each one were excited to go. For Tim, it was the…special effects or whatever he'd called them. For Tony, it was the lead, and very beautiful, actress.

A noise startled him, and he tilted his head back.

His smile faltered somewhat as Abby suddenly pinged out of the elevator, with her completed reports.

Watching her intently as she made her way to his desk to give him a verbal run down of her report, he chewed his lip.

He barely heard her conclusions as she spoke them, his eyes racking her slightly paler than usual face and her slightly bag rimmed eyes.

With all the drama going on between the boys, he hadn't had that much time to catch up with Abby, so the subtle signs had been missed by him. Now though, she was the subject of his full attentions, and he wasn't sure he liked was he was observing.

During the last case, he had noticed that his elder girl didn't bounce into his arms when he came into the lab. She quietly declined Caf-Pow's stating politely she was on a detox. She was mysteriously committed to other plans any time he, or any of the other three, asked her along to events or things outside of work. Her music was now generally playing at a tolerable level, if on at all.

All in all, she was acting strange, which for her, was _very_ strange.

He had eventually sat her down despite her protests and firmly asked her what if anything was bothering her. His gut was already telling him the answer, but he couldn't help if he didn't _know._

She had stared at him blankly out of those big eyes, and shook her head in the negative. He had pressed her, and she shook her head again. He pressed a little more, and eventually she mumbled something about "woman's problems" and he had blushed deeply and nodded, patting her knee awkwardly before exiting the lab like a bat out of hell.

That had been about a week ago, and as he leant back in his chair and scrutinised the face of his favourite his gut rumbled again.

His brow furrowed.

He had tried to reason with his gut. Tell it that it was just…uhh, _things_ wrong with the kid that couldn't be aided by him. That the…erm, the things…would take care of themselves. He remembered vaguely bulk buying hazelnut ice cream for Shannon when she was dealing with…uhm, things.

As Abby continued speaking, he wondered briefly how he could introduce ice cream into the conversation.

She concluded her report and handed it over with a small smile.

"Anything else Gibbs?"

He chewed his lip again.

"Yeah actually Abbs, there is. You wanna go for ice cream?"

She blinked.

"Ice cream?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

"Sure. We haven't really had a chance to catch up in a while… we could go to that new place Ziva was talking about the other day?"

She looked at him with a certain expression that he couldn't quite decipher, though if he had to guess he would have gone with…confusion?

Since when was ice cream confusing?

She stared steadily for a few moments, before smiling that polite smile that was beginning to drive him absolutely crazy.

He was much more accustomed, and much more appreciative of her usual toothy grin. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to remember the last time he'd seen _that_ smile.

He couldn't

"Uhh…sorry, Gibbs. I can't tonight…I have plans."

He tried to ignore the little part of him that stung from the reaction.

Which was hard, because it wasn't really a little part.

He eyed her closely.

She'd given the same excuse to Ziva and Tim when they'd asked her to go on a day trip with them over the weekend. She'd given the same excuse to Tony when he'd asked her to go with him to some college reunion dinner.

She politely declined every invitation to do anything, with anyone, that wasn't strictly work related.

Gibbs knew that…uhh, things…were hard and everything, but surely this wasn't right?

Not for Abby anyway.

His Abby beamed and bounced into every social occasion like it was the last one she'd ever attend. She was usually the one _organising_ the things he was so often dragged to.

He found himself experiencing another pinch of upset as he realised she hadn't attempted to drag him anywhere, for quite a while.

He sighed.

"Abbs…you sure everything's ok? You know you can talk to me right?"

There.

There it was.

That look… _again._

She shook her head, pigtails swinging firmly, and the polite smile was being plastered onto her face again.

"No Gibbs…I'm fine. I've gotta go now, I'll see you tomorrow."

Before he could open his mouth to object, she had flashed him that maddening smile one last time before scampering out of the bull pen at a fast gate.

Gibbs threw himself back in the chair, and threw his pen down in frustration, his good mood growing legs and hightailing it out of the bull pen after his puzzling lab rat.

He couldn't shake the feeling that the girl was mad at _him_ in particular, though she showed absolutely no outward signs of discourse, being perfectly polite and pleasant. Which was in itself alarming. He was used to her hyper active, quirky and intensely unique personality. What he was dealing with on a daily basis, was…a watered down version of Abby.

And he hated it.

He chewed his lip silently.

For once, he was completely staggered.

He felt his face heat up at the thoughts of trying to sit down and talk to his eldest girl, in a clumsy attempt to prise… personal information from her. He shook his head feebly. He had never come across a problem with one of his four to which he genuinely had _no_ idea how to go about helping them.

The heat in his face increased.

He was _hopeless_ at this kind of thing.

Kelly hadn't been old enough to…well, he had never had to deal with issues like this with his daughter.

His lip suffered further abuse as he chewed some more.

He had no clue what to do…but he knew he needed to do something.

Feeling the familiar confusion that so often dogged him when of the four decided to be baffling, he heaved himself up and gathered his things to head out.

He may as well be confused in the comforts of his own home.

Half an hour later, and he was pushing open his door, performing a delicate balancing act between protecting the pizza in one hand, and the stack of files in the other.

Throwing on the lights, he collapsed on the couch, flicking on the game that he'd made pains to record.

Abby's current demeanour had taken up a current residence in the back of his mind, her puzzling behaviour preventing him from fully unwinding.

Leaning back on the sofa, he rationalised that maybe she _was_ just as she said she was. That she was just dealing with…things.

Three or four hours passed, and as he cradled a bottle of water, he finally found himself start to unwind.

He was probably just overreacting. He shouldn't distrust what his eldest girl told him. If she was able to look him in the eye and promise him that she was ok, he had to trust her.

He took another swig, and managed to finally lose himself in the western that was now flickering across the screen.

He was just about to finish off the last cold slice of pizza, when his cell shrilled in his jeans.

Sighing, he fished it out, glancing at the caller ID.

"Hey Ziva, what is it?"

There was a silence, but he could hear the kid breathing.

He sat up straight.

"Ziva?"

He heard a hesitant breath being drawn on the other end of the phone, and instantly his gut kicked into overdrive.

Something was wrong.

"Gibbs…"

He closed his eyes, the indecision and emotion evident in the girl's voice.

He forced himself to remain calm, and his tone controlled.

"What's wrong Ziva, c'mon kid, talk to me."

Another breath was drawn.

"It's Abby, Gibbs…"

He was on his feet, fishing around for his coat, his heartbeat quickening.

"What's going on Ziva? Where is she? What's wrong?"

A split second silence greeted him, before another gulping of air was taken.

"We are at a bar…downtown."

Gibbs instantly reached for a pen and paper, and quickly jotted down the address given.

"Ok… and what's the matter?"

He could practically hear the gulping on the other end of the line.

"Abby…she is…uhh, trying to go…uhm, home…with a man that has uhh...well, a considerable criminal record."

Gibbs' gut instantly churned.

"Kind of record?" he croaked out, thanking god Ziva had the good sense to run whatever putz this was name.

Another swooshing of air was heard.

"Sexual assault…and battery. Please Gibbs…please come down and get her. I made her promise to wait until I came back from the bathroom. I have been stalling her for the last hour, I have told her about this…man. I cannot force her to stay with me, she won't listen…please, Gibbs…"

She trailed off, anxiety screaming in her voice.

Gibbs had already grabbed his keys and was slamming closed his front door, bile rising in his throat. He knew how scared Ziva would have to be for Abby for her to call him behind her back. Those two were thick as thieves. Kicking the car into overdrive, he squealed out of his driveway.

"I'm on the way Ziva, on the way… just keep her there. Do _not_ let her leave."

…..

TBC

…..

A/N: All credit for this idea goes to KrisShannon! This is the storyline I came up with from your fantastic idea, thank you again!

As always guys, thanks for reading and please let me know what you all think!

(The next chapter of The Trust Equation should be up soon, for those following that one)


	23. New York, New York

Gibbs' grip was firm and furious on her upper arm, as he stared into the completely _sober_ Abby's face in complete and utter disbelief.

The apparent romantic interest that the lab rat had snared simply stood and stared in amazement, as the formally bouncy girl had it out with who he surmised had to be her father, outside the bar the man had stormed in to not five minutes prior.

Ziva stood in the middle of the three of them, chewing her lip nervously, her dark brown eyes flitting over each player in the unfolding debacle fleetingly.

"Gibbs" she spat angrily, but yet with a maddening aloofness, "I am _fine._ I do not need your _help_. Go _home."_

She jerked her head over in Ziva's direction, who looked away in uncharacteristic nervousness.

"And take your little private investigator with you!"

Gibbs took in a deep and hopefully soothing breath, as he struggled to keep a hold on his temper.

"You are _not_ going anywhere with this…with this _lowlife"_ he ground out, with an equally enraged bite.

The lowlife in question right there and then decided that enough really was enough.

Stepping in between a highly irate LJ Gibbs and a hissing Abigail Scuito, he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

Well, what he _hoped_ would be a placating gesture.

In reality, he may as well have waved a red rag in front of Gibbs' face and had done with it.

If the snarl that was emitted from the grey haired mans throat was anything to go by that was

"Listen man" he began with an infuriating cockiness, causing the Gibbs' jaw to twitch violently.

Man? _Man?_

He'd give him _man._

His teeth grated together with ferocity.

His dentist had warned him about that.

"That's _Agent Man_ to you" he spat out, not relinquishing his hold on Abby's arm.

The antagonist rolled his eyes and gave a mocking nod.

"Ok then, _Agent Man_ …what _exactly_ is your problem?"

Gibbs stared in disbelief… and then he stared some more, whilst fighting with all his might not to slam his fist full force into this jokers face.

"My problem?" he hissed, causing two straggling tourists to hightail it into the safety of the bar, "my _problem_ is that you are a disgusting felon… with a history of using force to get what you want from women. _Your_ problem is…that it will be over my dead body before you do that with _Abby_."

The cool air that hung between the four of them was all that stirred for a few moments in response to this announcement.

That was until the younger man then did the unthinkable.

He laughed.

He looked a murderously furious Gibbs full in the face, and laughed his goddamned head off.

Spluttering and wheezing with the joviality of it all, he eventually shook his head wearily and threw a glance in Abby's direction.

"Why don't you explain the situation to the old man, Abby."

Old man? _Old man?_

Gibbs had a wonderful fleeting vision of this wasters blood adorning his knuckles, before Abby forcibly wrested herself out of his grip, and looked up at him with a defiantly seething expression.

"The background check you've _obviously_ done on Connor here, courtesy of your little spy" she paused to throw Ziva a filthy look, "is a fake."

The agent blinked.

A fake?

"Connor here, isn't _really_ Connor. He's Liam, from New York Narcotics. He's currently undercover in DC, in a human trafficking ring that uses drugs to control their victims, hence the bogus record."

She paused once more to shoot both Gibbs and Ziva another scathing look of boiling fury. His eyes were torn away from her narrowed eyes for a moment as Connor…or _Liam_ , reached into his pocket and drew out credentials.

Taking in the official badge that was sailing dangerously close to his nose, caused Gibbs to take a step back and blink some more. There was no mistaking the official seal on the creds, and he had enough experience with forgeries to know that the one being brandished victoriously in front of his face was no forgery.

"Uhh…" he began awkwardly, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Ziva was wearing an expression of mortified horror that was probably quite similar to his own.

"Uhh…what?" Abby growled, her whole body beginning to vibrate angrily.

"Uhh…sorry for coming down here unannounced, uninvited and unwelcome?" she continued furiously, sardonically. "Sorry for making a complete and utter fool out of me?"

Gibbs bit his lip, completely at a loss for words.

"Abby…I…" he spluttered eventually, "it's just… well it's just…you've been acting so _strangely_ recently, and then when you kept saying you had plans…and then tonight…with _him_ …with the fake record…" he trailed off helplessly, feeling a dull flush begin to work its way across his face.

His words didn't seem to be striking a positive chord with his positive favourite, as she seemed to exude more and more anger with every syllable spoken.

Taking a further step back, closer to Liam, who threw an arm over her shoulder comfortingly, she ran a cold, appraising glance over both her teammate and team leader.

"Oh I have plans alright Gibbs" she eventually murmured, with a resonating finality to her tone.

He blinked at the quiet anger that shone through her few words, but she didn't allow him much time to process them, before adding a few more that would leave his eyelashes frayed from the exertion of it all.

"Plans… to leave NCIS. Plans… to transfer, to New York Narcotics."

The air suddenly seemed thick as sludge, somewhat cushioning the surprised gasp he heard from Ziva on his right, whilst mercifully impairing his vision of the smug smile that was spreading over this…this _Liam's_ face.

Like the cat who caught the cream.

He shook his head slightly, in some kind of inane attempt to rid himself of an imaginary blockage.

He took in her unrepentant, unrelenting and unfazed poise, and felt his jaw slacken.

The whispered word that fell out his own mouth sounded like it was coming from across the street, he could barely connect the word croaked out and his own vocal chords. His head was spinning, and his heart was quickening.

"What?"

…..

TBC

…..

A/N: There's a reason Abby's acting the way she is, all will be revealed in the next chapter.

Thanks for reading.


	24. NY v DC

Running a hand through his hair, Gibbs groaned in frustration as Abby continued to stare wordlessly at him. After agreeing to come back to his house with a drama more befitting a performing arts major, she had pecked Liam on the cheek and slammed her way into Gibbs' car, stubbornly ignoring him all the way back to his home.

Now, she sat on his couch, legs crossed, arms folded and seemed to have lost the art of speech.

"Abby" he muttered, yet again, "For the _last_ time, will you open your mouth and explain to me just what the _hell_ is going on?"

The large eyes staring back at him may as well have had "if you don't know, then I'm certainly not going to tell you" across them.

He let out a long suffering breath.

"Why are you being so damn difficult?"

The mixture of exasperation and burgeoning anger in his tone seemed to finally trigger a response.

"I'm not being difficult, I'm giving you what you want."

Gibbs head swooned slightly.

"Giving me what I _want?"_ he spluttered incredulously, "you think you packing your bags out of the clear blue sky and heading over to NY Narc is what I _want?"_

He waited impatiently for her to tell him that he had picked her meaning up wrong.

The "exactly" that rang out of her small frame was therefore as slamming as being tossed in the wake of a long haulage truck.

He stared. He wasn't sure for how long, but even for him, it was pretty damn long.

"Exactly?" he all but whispered, feeling the strains of each year he had spent on the planet with an acute force.

"What the hell do you _mean,_ exactly?"

It was her turn to stare, and to stare at him like he was a particularly obtuse item of little significance in some kind of run down, low budget museum.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes I'm damn serious" he shot back angrily, feeling the familiar panic of losing one of his four begin to surge once again through his small intestine.

Abby sighed, as if she had just buried a lifelong cat.

"It's not that difficult a word, Gibbs."

His jaw clenched as the burgeoning anger began to transform into _very_ present anger.

"Watch the attitude" he rebuked quietly, through gritted teeth.

Rolling her eyes was the immediate response, and Gibbs' jaw clenched further.

"I'm warning you Abby. You might be transferring, but as of right now, I'm still your boss. Act like it."

She looked at him with a look he couldn't define, before dropping her head to her chest and mumbling "sorry."

He sighed.

"Didn't hear that, what did you say?"

She replicated his sigh, but heeded the warning, lifting her head and speaking clearly.

"Sorry Gibbs."

He nodded approvingly with a murmured "better", and continued his confused appraisal of his lab rat.

"Abby…I really don't understand what's going on here…I mean, did I do something to you?"

The pained tone in his voice was enough to crack through the trepid shell that she'd encased herself in and despite herself. she felt her eyes tearing up.

Biting her lip, she fidgeted with her hands and squirmed in her seat.

Looking up, she opened her mouth, then she closed it, before rinsing and repeating.

Gibbs waited patiently, knowing that impatience would get him nowhere.

"It's just you…uhm, when you said that…well when you _meant_ that…"

The confusion that was lapping at him, completely engulfed him.

He hadn't the foggiest notion what the girl was talking about. Trying to be as gentle as he could, he leant forwards in his seat, so that their knees were nearly touching.

"What did I say Abby?" he murmured quietly, his blue eyes drinking in the obvious sadness that was now radiating off the girl with an equal sadness of his own.

She didn't answer, instead opting to examine her shoes with an unusual intensity. Even for her.

"C'mon kid…talk to me" he repeated gently, reaching out and tipping her head carefully upwards with a thumb.

He winced when he saw the teary quality of her eyes, and racked his brain frantically.

He came up blank.

He couldn't think of anything he had said that would make the young woman in front of him think that he didn't want her on his team anymore.

That he didn't want _her_ anymore.

She took a deep breath.

"Do you remember the whole club thing" she muttered, "when Ziva and I…uhh, when we walked home from the club that night?"

Gibbs nodded slowly, not particularly wanting to recall that incident and being completely oblivious as to how it was relevant _now._

"Yeah Abbs…I do, whys that?"

She took another deep breath.

"Uhh…well, do you remember…being pretty mad at me?"

He nodded again slowly, still not seeing where this was going.

"I do" he confirmed softly, waiting for the elusive explanation with a rapid panicking feeling rising in his stomach.

Another large gulping of air was taken, and the teary quality of her eyes stepped up a gear as he watched in helpless confusion.

"You said…" she stopped, and looked at him with brimming eyes, and ducked her head.

Becoming rapidly more and more alarmed, he once again reached out and tilted her head back gently to level eye contact.

"Come on Abbs…its ok, it's just you and me here…come on now, what did I say?"

As she blinked, a solitary tear fell out of her waterlogged eyes and trailed down her cheek.

He deftly brushed it away, as he waited for her to resume her explanation.

"You said…that basically I was a bad influence on the others and that…that I was a brat, and that I was the reason Ziva and the boys are always in trouble…"

With that, she jerked her head out of his careful grasp and threw it down into her own hands and began to cry in earnest.

Before he could drag himself out his stunned state, she was sobbing out words in between her hands.

"You're…you're right. That's why I reached out to Liam…for a tr…transfer."

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it again.

"I wasn't…going to, but…but when the boys were staying here for ages and didn't…didn't want to do anything with me…and when Ziva…was away at che…chemical weapons training…I realised that you were ke…keeping them away from me…because you didn't want me…rubbing off on them."

With that, she removed the moderate to slight hold she had held on her tears, and began to weep loudly into her hands, her slim shoulders heaving with the effort of her misery.

A medium to large supermarket could have potentially fit in Gibbs' mouth as he stared agape at the sobbing girl.

He shook his head in an attempt to force it into some mode of function, casting his mind back to lecture he'd dished out to Abby for the club catastrophe. He recalled being tougher than usual sure, but as he recalled the incident, he was absolutely assured that he hadn't said she was the cause of the others always being in trouble.

He bit his lip.

How on _earth_ could she think he'd keep the boys and Ziva away from her.

His whirring thoughts were interrupted as his paternal streak took over, rising, he threw himself down beside the crying girl and instantly drew her into his arms. She resisted at first, shaking her head firmly and mumbling incoherently, but after he wrapped strong arms around her and she breathed in his familiar scent, she relaxed into the embrace despite herself.

Sobbing into his chest, she expelled the last two months or so of insecurities that had built up inside her since she had had time to properly analyse the tongue lashing Gibbs had given her.

He let her cry it out, knowing that trying to explain, to comfort, over the sounds of her own weeping was futile. Instead, he carded a careful hand through her now wild mop of jet black hair and held her tightly to him.

Five or so minutes passed and the wetness of his shirt increased tenfold as she cried into his chest, clinging onto him fiercely.

Eventually however, there were simply no more tears to fall and with a large sniffle she broke away from him, and rubbed a hand over her red rimmed, bloodshot eyes.

Releasing her, he stood and strode quickly into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he took a paper towel and dampened it under hot water. Making his way back to his seat, he handed her the water wordlessly, and rubbed the towel across her face, taking tear tracks and foundation off in his wake.

She took a long draught of water when he was finished, and stared miserably at the ground.

Resting a warm hand on her knee, he drew her attention back to him.

"You ready to listen to me now?" he asked quietly, and to his relief she nodded her head after some minimal hesitation.

He chewed his lip for a brief moment, and equally briefly considered undergoing some kind of sensitivity training given the frequency he seemed to wind up with a crying team member on his couch.

"Abbs…when I yelled at you, I was tougher than I normally am with you. I know that, but…well kid, you deserved it.

She didn't answer him, and he pressed on.

"But I _didn't_ say you were the reason Ziva and the boys get into trouble. I _said_ you had to stop wheedling them into giving you your way. They're still responsible for their actions, I did _not_ mean you were a bad influence on them, I just meant that you needed to quit refusing to take no for an answer, because we all have such a soft spot for you. That's _all."_

She opened her mouth, presumably to argue, so he pressed on yet again.

"And yeah, I _did_ say you were turning into a brat. But…that doesn't mean that you're not still _you_ as far as I'm concerned. You were behaving in a way I won't tolerate for a while, and that's why I said what I said. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, I was trying to snap you out of a spiral of poor decision making and behaviour. Do you see the difference?"

She looked at him silently, her eyes still bearing the tell tale signs of recent sobbing.

"What I'm trying to say I guess is that…maybe I should have been more clear with you. It was your _behaviour_ I had a problem with, not _you._ Do you understand?"

This, at least, elicited a jerky nodding gesture.

Taking solace in that, he continued.

"As for me keeping the boys and Ziva away from you…Abbs, come on, don't you know me at all?"

She spluttered over a mid sip of water, and looked at him incredulously.

"I haven't hung out with the boys in _ages_ because they kept saying they were working on some…some _project_ here with _you_ that _I_ wasn't invited to."

Gibbs grit his teeth and partially resolved to wring his boys' necks.

"Abbs…" he began with a weary shake of his head, "the boys weren't here because they were having a great time on some project, they were _here_ because they were in trouble. Serious trouble."

She gaped.

"Huh?"

He smiled slightly.

"Abby…they were here because they were grounded and because I was mad as hell with them. They behaved like toddlers, the two of them, which is _why_ I guess they didn't tell you the truth."

Realisation was beginning to spread across her face, and he once again, continued.

"As for Ziva… her training was arranged weeks and weeks before the two of you got into hot water. That's all, nothing ulterior or sinister. Just standard NCIS protocol."

The dull flush that was beginning to spread across her cheeks was not unprecedented, and he bit back an answering smile.

"Have I covered everything now?" he asked gently.

As her head nodded once more, the flush ramped up into burning amber and she began to squirm intensely in her seat.

"Gibbs…I-"

"Should have come to me" he finished for her sternly, looking down at her with a calm expression.

"How many times do I have to tell you four, that if you have a problem, you _come_ to _me?"_

She bit her lip uncertainly, before opening her mouth.

"I know, but-"

"No, _no_ buts. Look at the state you've gotten yourself worked up into, that could have been avoided if you'd just come to me weeks ago."

She groaned and fidgeted some more before blurting out a sad "I'm such an idiot."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that, and before he knew what he was doing, he leant back in the couch and drew her into his arms. She instantly rested her head on his chest and sighed.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked in a quiet little voice that as usual tugged on his heartstrings.

He pondered her question for a moment, as he mindlessly tousled her hair.

"I guess that depends" he finally answered.

"On?"

He held his breath for a second, not knowing if he could stomach the answer he didn't want, should it fall out of her mouth.

"Are you… still heading to NY Narc?"

She blushed even further, even though he couldn't see it, he could just tell and he gently squeezed her shoulder.

"No Gibbs" she squeaked…"I don't know what I was thinking when I talked to Liam."

He snorted.

"You were thinking I was an absolute jerk, that Ziva and the boys were my mini jerks, and you were just _so_ like _totally_ like _done_ with the whole _lot_ of us?"

She raised her head to look at him in shock.

"Are you making fun of the way I talk?"

He chuckled as his eyes twinkled confidently.

"Maybe."

She stared some more, before throwing her head back on his chest and muttering "unbelievable" under her breath.

She squawked as he landed a stinging swat on her well presented butt in response.

"What was that for?" she spluttered in indignation, once again raising her head to look at him.

"No muttering under your breath" he rebuked calmly, "you know the drill."

She didn't answer, and instead she just leant against his chest and wondered how she could have been so stupid.

"I'm so sorry" she croaked out a couple minutes later, the full force of her neurosis hitting her full in the face. "I can't believe I was so stupid. Even when the boys started asking me to do things…and Ziva…and you, I was too proud to say yes, even though I really wanted to."

He held her slightly tighter as she continued.

"I owe Ziva an apology…"

"You sure do" he agreed sternly, glad she had brought it up without prompting.

She nodded immediately.

"I can't believe she can stake me out and I don't even notice!"

He laughed into her hair.

"It's what she's good at kiddo."

The two lapsed into a silence once more, each lost to their own thoughts.

"Gibbs?"

"Mhhmm?"

She hesitated, before tilting her head upwards to look at him.

"I'm really not in trouble?"

He sighed as he contemplated her repeated question.

She hadn't _really_ put herself in danger, and she hadn't _really_ broken a rule…but he could see the guilt in her eyes, and if he was truthful with himself, whilst he was intensely relieved to get to the bottom of everything, he _was_ cross with her for not talking to him and upsetting herself to such a degree.

"Do you think you should be?"

She squirmed in his arms, and he waited patiently.

"I guess…I guess I know better than to not come to you for help by now" she mumbled quietly, torn between a healthy sense of self preservation and a laborious sense of guilt for her asinine assumptions.

He nodded, proud of her self awareness.

"I think one weeks grounding will do the trick, yes?"

She hesitated, clearly relieved she wasn't about to get her butt roasted and her usual hatred of being confined. Common sense eventually won out, and she nodded her dark head.

"Yes Gibbs."

He squeezed her shoulder again, lost in his relief that the latest debacle was over.

"Good girl."

He held her for a little while longer, before her stomachs growling interrupted the peaceful pair.

"I take it you didn't eat?" he said in exasperation, as she looked at him with poodle eyes.

Rolling his own, he carefully removed her and left her sitting on the couch as he stood up.

Turning to go into the kitchen, he was struck by an afterthought and barely suppressed a groan.

Turning back his groan increased when he saw the afterthought _in_ Abby's hands, her fingers flying over the keypad at a rate that made him feel dizzy.

"Phone, Abbs. Hand it over."

She looked up with a grimace, that she quickly removed, before answering.

"Just two more minutes Gibbs, please?" she pleaded, hating the no privileges aspect that went with being grounded.

He shook his head, and held out his hand with a raised eyebrow.

"Abby…don't make this harder than it needs to be."

She looked up again with an earnest expression.

"But… but I'm just texting Liam to tell him that the deal is off and I don't want to see him again."

He blinked.

"Oh…well…ok then, carry on."

Turning around once more, he couldn't help the broad smile that split across his handsome face.

"Bye _Liam."_

…..

TBC

….

Thanks for reading guys and please let me know what you all think!


	25. Camp Comforts

Gibbs sighed and for the hundredth time that day wondered why the hell he had come up with the idea in the first place. Scrubbing his face in frustration, he hefted the _third_ of Abby's suitcases into his car trunk, shaking his head at the assortment of "necessities" she had amassed for a four day trip.

He cursed loudly when he hit his head off the trunks lid, as he straightened up.

Glaring over at Ducky's smug little smile as he filled _his_ car with Palmers and Tim's sensible luggage, as the two boys sat happily in his back seat without a fuss.

Glaring into his own backseat, he frowned as he saw his two girls basically assault a squawking Tony as he flinched away from them, with his hands raised defensively and a whimpered " _boss"_.

"Ziva…Abby" he growled, ignoring the quiet "ha" that he heard escape his senior field agent in response.

"We are on _holidays_ Gibbs… we are just making him… comfortable" Ziva crooned, laughter in her tone as Tony scowled in response.

Rolling his eyes, a wearied Jethro shut the trunk with a snap and again threw an envious look over at the perfectly calm car that Ducky was clambering into.

He knew he should have separated Ziva and Tony at the very least.

Ducky kicked his engine into gear, and with two beeps of the horn he trundled out of Gibbs' driveway, to begin the three hour car ride to the designated camp.

Kicking his own engine into gear, Gibbs cursed the luggage in the front seat that could have otherwise kept Tony out of harm's way.

Swivelling around, he schooled his features into boss mode.

"Right you three…this is a pretty long drive. I don't want any carry on out of any of you, or I will turn this car around and the whole lot of you can go right back to the office. Clear?"

One "yes boss" and two "yes Gibbs" answered him, and rolled the car out of the driveway, hoping for the best, but secretly very much looking forward to spending some down time with his four.

It had been about three months since any of them had been in any kind of serious trouble, and he was relishing the break from being the bad guy.

Tim had also seemed to be growing closer and closer to Palmer, and he was glad the two had so much in common to bond over, though he held nagging worries that Tony may be growing jealous.

There was relative peace in the car as it soared up the motorway, and the three in the back seemed to be in good spirits and bickering was kept to a minimum.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Maybe they could at least get there before they killed each other.

After a brief stop for food, they were back on the road, and before they all knew it, Gibbs was steering his car into the camping ground.

Killing the engine, he turned to issue instructions to the passengers, but they had already scooted out of the car.

Rolling his eyes with a smile, he heaved himself out after them. Looking around, he saw they had beat Ducky and his two passengers to the site. The ridiculously competitive streak in him beamed.

"Ok, Tony your cabin is over there, you're bunking with Palmer and Tim" he instructed, reading from the booking order in his hands, and gesturing towards a handsome log cabin.

DiNozzo's eyes instantly lit up as he realised that he would get first choice of bunk, and grabbing his gear he hightailed it into his new abode.

Chuckling, Gibbs, ducked his head back into the booking order and rooted for the girls' cabin.

Sighing, he saw it was right beside the boys'.

Wonderful.

"Alright you two, you're next door to the guys. So help me, if I hear one complaint about their clothes going missing, I will murder you."

They snorted with laughter and Gibbs' eyes narrowed.

Clearly the idea of pranking was not something they _hadn't_ thought about.

Ziva grabbed her mercifully light bag, and rolled her eyes as she helped Abby with her moving truck load worth of luggage.

Searching for his and Ducky's cabin, he was relatively relieved to see that it was facing both the girls' and boys' cabins, on the opposite side of the housing cluster.

Heaving his own luggage out, he set off towards his new home, secretly as happy as Tony was that he got the first choice of bunk.

After about ten minutes of unpacking his few bits and pieces, Ducky strode through the door.

"Ah Jethro" he exclaimed happily, "this is quaint isn't it?"

Gibbs chuckled.

"Sure is Duck, Tim and Palmer ok?"

The ME nodded happily.

"Right as rain! Not an undue peep out of them on the way up."

Gibbs smiled.

His junior agent and Ducky's assistant rubbed along together very nicely indeed.

After both men had unfinished packing, they strolled outside to check on their joint charges and weren't surprised to hear familiar voices squealing from a distance.

Meandering after the voices, chattering as old friend so, they soon found themselves at the side of the lake that formed the main attraction point of the site.

Gibbs drew a breath.

It was beautiful.

His breath turned into a happy smile as he saw his two girls' and his two boys' playfully splashing around the calm water, with Palmer fitting right in with them with an ease he hadn't really expected.

As he stood and watched them, with Ducky's amused commentary, he felt truly peaceful.

It was good to see them being able to relax.

Their jobs were so consuming…so immune to time restrictions, that the four young people in front of him didn't get that many chances to be just that.

 _Young._

Satisfied that there was a seasoned looking life guard on duty, should all five of them inexplicably be in need of assistance, his thoughts turned to feeding their brood.

Jerking his head, he set off back towards the cabins with an amiable Ducky in toe.

An hour or so later saw all five wards huddled around an expertly Gibbs made campfire, watching with watering mouths as he deftly cooked sausages and burgers.

Passing the food around a few minutes later, a happy Jethro threw himself down beside Ducky and ate his own helping, as the five eventually ran off to hunt for marshmallows in the nearby store to roast.

Tony leading the way, naturally.

He smiled.

A few more minutes passed, and he stared peaceably into the distance.

"You look deep in thought Jethro?" Ducky eventually queried softly, having a pretty good idea what was rattling around his old friends head.

The brilliant blue eyes found his and the smile was as pain free as the Doctor had seen from the agent in a long, long time.

"Just thinking about how damn lucky I am, Duck."

…..

A/N: And that's that folks! Decided to leave this one here. Thank you so much for all the feedback, I really appreciate it.

I hope you've enjoyed the read, I certainly enjoyed the write!

…


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